Beyond the Mist
by DiaDuitCluaiste
Summary: Merlin meets a mysterious and magical woman. Is she friend or foe? Does she know more about Merlin and Arthur's futures than she's letting on? [Terrible summary but I don't want to give anything away. A T for now, may become an M later. Themes: adventure, relationships, mystery, legend and some light humour. Bear with me.]
1. A New Ally

Chapter 1 – A New Ally

Merlin tottered unsteadily along the castle corridors. His arms were piled high with all sorts: armour, cloaks, clothes, shoes, a sword, and a fresh scroll of parchment. So high was his pile that he could hardly see over it to stop himself crashing hither and thither, unsettling several probably priceless ornaments from their places along the way. He was on an errand for King Arthur, well, multiple errands actually. He was probably forgetting one or two of them, but he cared very little. It was only mid-afternoon, yet he was on the verge of collapse. The Lammas Day Festival was fast approaching and Camelot was buzzing with activities and preparations of every sort. This, of course, meant that Arthur was far more stressed than usual, leading to a compensatory heap of work for Merlin. It was unfortunate, and more than a little unfair, but by now he was used to it.

Lugging his small mountain up the final flight of stairs, Merlin turned the corner sharply only to see the parchment fly from his arms and drift mockingly to the floor. He grumbled in annoyance and looked around. Nobody was about and so Merlin took the opportunity to summon the paper silently with a simple spell. It zoomed up to meet him and he grabbed it with a smile of satisfaction, pressing it to the side of his bundle with his thumb. He walked more steadily as he reached the king's chambers and, reversing through the leaned-over door, which he had taken care to leave so when he left earlier, entered the room with relief. Being sure not to squash the parchment, Merlin plonked the rest onto the wooden table and strode over to the desk, flinging the paper into Arthur's face.

The king looked up.

"Was that necessary?"

Merlin paused, already halfway back, looking his friend up and down. "Absolutely," he answered, a good-humoured edge to his tone. Arthur huffed slightly and looked back down, leaving Merlin to sort through the mess he'd left on the table.

"Did you polish my armour?"

"Yes."

"Shine my boots?"

"Yes."

"Wash my clothes?"

"Yes."

"Sharpen my sword?"

"Yes."

"Mend my cloak?"

"Yes."

"Prepare my horse for the hunt?"

"Ye-" Merlin stopped himself and cringed. Drat it. He knew that there was something he'd forgotten. Arthur sighed and leant back in his chair.

"And you were so close too," he taunted his manservant. Merlin clenched his teeth, and controlled the urge to roll his eyes by folding the shirt in front of him. The king looked down at his papers again, muttering. "Utterly useless."

Merlin was about to make a snap comment when a voice echoed through his mind.

" _Emrys_." He froze. It wasn't a familiar voice, but it was a familiar name and a familiar sensation - the whispers that tickled and resonated. As if driven by some greater force, Merlin found himself being drawn to the window by the fireplace. He was fairly sure that Arthur was addressing him, but he wasn't listening.

The voice sounded again, " _Emrys_." Merlin looked through the glass panes of the window, almost in fear of what was calling for him. As soon as the courtyard was visible he saw who he was looking for. Directly in the centre of the square stood an emerald-cloaked figure. The hood was up, but from the build, Merlin would've thought it to be a woman. She, if it was a she, stood alone, surrounded by the daily activities of the town's people. They hardly noticed her as they carted things to-and-fro, despite the fact that she was probably in their way. A child in the arms of his mother watched her curiously as he was carried across the courtyard, but that was all the attention that she heralded.

" _Come to me_ ," she said - he had been right; it was definitely a woman, perhaps even a girl. Merlin watched her. She made no move, but her cloak danced gracefully in the breeze.

"Merlin?" He snapped from his trance and turned quickly to his left.

"What?"

Arthur stood a few feet away, hands on hips and eyebrow raised. "Were you listening at all?" the king asked. Shaking his head a little experimentally, Merlin gave Arthur his best innocent-shock expression.

"Of course! I'll... go and get your horse ready right now," Merlin replied. Whether or not that had been the topic of conversation, Arthur made no comment. He simply watched in bemusement as Merlin pulled away from the window and left the room quickly, almost running down the corridor.

He had no idea why he was so keen to meet this stranger. He had no idea what was compelling him to run faster, but he knew no bad could come of it. After all, they would be in the middle of the courtyard; she wouldn't dare try any funny business. He reached the square within a matter of minutes. Pausing briefly at the door, Merlin advanced towards her, attempting to seem more sure of himself than he was actually feeling. He stopped a few feet away from her.

"Who are you?" he asked aloud. He was still unable to see beneath her hood, but he could see now that she was several inches shorter than him and of a very fragile build.

" _Let us not speak here_ ," she answered him without speaking. " _Nobody can be trusted_."

" _What does it matter if we aren't using our voices?_ " Merlin retorted, opting to communicate with her silently. A laugh echoed through his mind and he flinched.

" _More have the ability to hear us than you might expect, you of all people should know that_."

He narrowed his eyes briefly before nodding. From afar it must have looked like an odd, wordless exchange and Merlin looked around cautiously; it wouldn't do to have people being suspicious. Why he trusted her he was not yet sure. She had Magic, and she seemed harmless enough. She had sought him out by the name very few, such as the Druids, knew him by. Was that enough?

He indicated to the steps down which he had just descended. She bowed her head and they walked side-by-side into the castle. He led them immediately to Gaius's chambers and straight into his room. Still a little wary of her, Merlin put himself between her and the door.

"Who are you?" he repeated. This time, she answered him aloud.

"Your race knows me by the name Luned."

Something in Merlin's mind whirred in recognition, but he thought nothing of it.

"My race?" he questioned as his heart skipped a beat. "You're not human?"

"No."

"Then what are you?"

The girl pulled back her hood. "Take a wild guess." She smirked knowingly as Merlin studied her with his mouth wide open. Her skin was as pale as snow, almost translucent, and her sparkling emerald eyes stood out against her complexion. Her hair was a rich chocolate colour and it fell in loose curls down her back. She couldn't have been older than her early twenties, but there was something ethereal about her youth; she was beautiful, without a doubt. A waxing moon was inked in dark blue on her forehead, marking her as a priestess of the Old Religion. But that wasn't what he was staring at. From beneath her mane of hair poked the pointed tops of her ears.

"You're an Elf?" Merlin whispered.

"I am Iellwen, priestess of Emhain Abhlach, heir to Lady Maerwen of the Island, and gifted with the Sight," she answered. "I was sent to you by the Morrígan, to assist you in preventing the downfall of Arthur, Father of Albion and the Once and Future King." Merlin snorted. He was overwhelmed by all he had been told and was feeling slightly dizzy, but the last sentence had made him laugh.

"I don't need any help, thanks. I've been doing this for years."

"Alone?" The question had seemed patronising, but Merlin could do nothing but answer honestly.

"No," he said reluctantly. They fell silent as she gazed at him softly.

"Don't hate me, Emrys. I wish not to interfere, but to be of assistance when you need it."

Merlin paused. He didn't like that this 'Morrígan' seemed to think that he needed help doing what he was destined to do, but the priestess was looking at him in such a way that he felt weak at the knees. Had he always had a weakness for women with Magic? Perhaps. It certainly seemed that way now.

"How do I know that I can trust you?" he finally asked. She reached inside her cloak and pulled out a pointed crystal on a string.

"This crystal clouds when a lie is told," she explained, holding it up in-between them, "for instance: do you think of me as beautiful?"

"No," Merlin snapped instantly. Promptly, the crystal filled with a cloud of smoke and he cringed. Damn. He'd known the moment he had said it that he should have said nothing. She grinned.

"In all fairness, my being an Elf is probably cheating."

Merlin narrowed his eyes, more out of embarrassment than anger, and took the crystal from her hand. He held it up.

"Is everything you say about yourself true?"

"Yes," she answered. The crystal stayed clear.

"Do you mean any harm to me or the people of Camelot?"

"No." The crystal didn't cloud. Merlin frowned. Perhaps she _was_ to be trusted.

But he continued with his questions still.

"Do you swear to protect Arthur with your life?"

"Yes." The crystal stayed clear.

"Will you do all you can to assist me?"

"Yes." The crystal didn't change.

"Will you ever willingly turn against Camelot or its people?"

"No." Nothing happened.

"Do you think I'm handsome?"

"No." This time, the crystal fogged up. Merlin laughed and he was sure that she would have blushed, had she not been an Elf. "That was unfair."

"It was payback," he replied.

"All right, fair enough," she sighed. They looked into each other's eyes and laughed.

"We could have so much fun with this."

She shook her head with a grin, and took it from his hands. "It's not meant to be for play," she answered, attempting to sound as if she was scolding him, but only achieving sounding highly amused. They fell silent and Merlin glanced down at his feet, then back up into his new friend's eyes. He was surprised to see the priestess watching him with a kind of wistful sadness – why was she sad?

"Why do I feel like I've known you all my life?"

"Destiny."

* * *

 _Sarah: Thank you for joining me on a new adventure! I hope you liked the first chapter of this lengthy saga. As always, your feedback is welcomed warmly._

 _Before you officially sell your soul to this story, I should probably let you know that I am a busy buzy NHS bee and my shift work means that I am very often sleep-deprived and confused. I aim to update this story at least every month, but it may be slow going._

 _You have been warned!_


	2. The Note

Chapter 2 – The Note

Arthur strode across the courtyard with an angry purpose, heading straight towards Merlin, who was humming along at a leisurely pace, unknowingly towards his furious master.

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted. The young warlock looked up in surprise and froze. The king stopped before him. "Did you prepare my horse?"

Merlin cursed, "Argh, I knew I'd forgotten something."

"That was what you left to do!" Arthur cried in exasperation.

"I got lost," Merlin said pathetically. He watched as the king had to physically refrain from lashing out.

"Lost?! You-" Arthur stopped himself and gritted his teeth. "Just go and get the horse. The hunt leaves in _five_ minutes."

"Five? But-"

"Merlin!" Strongly sensing that Arthur was in a foul mood, the manservant hurried around to the royal stables and fetched one of the lither hunting horses and saddled it without hesitation. Jogging back around to the courtyard, with the tawny horse at a trot behind him, Merlin returned to his master. Without another word, Arthur took the reins grumpily and mounted, immediately turning to the hunting party and signalling for them to leave.

The party was a fairly small one: only Arthur and his most trusted men, including Merlin, were going. The king had announced that it was a private hunt, one to celebrate the harvest with friends, and only friends. But it wasn't at all. Only those going knew the real story. Arthur had received a tip off from a trusted spy that there had been a rumour of a rebel group settling on the outskirts of Camelot. Usually, the Camelot Guard would have been sent to get rid of them, but these weren't any old rebels, these were assassins. And the name of one assassin had alarmed Arthur greatly: the notorious 'Barathon the Unseen'. He'd never been captured, he'd never been caught, he'd never ever been so much as seen – hence the name – and now he was heading for Camelot.

Arthur would never admit it, but he was clearly terrified. If this man meant to kill him, he would. Their only hope would be to find him before he found them, and that was no easy feat. Yet still they travelled straight into iron claws of the danger, or so they thought. It was nearing sunset when they arrived in a suitable glade.

"We'll set up camp here," Arthur said, dismounting and tying the bridle of his horse to the branch of a tree, nearest to the grass. The others followed suit and Merlin began setting up a camp fire in the centre. They spent the rest of the evening in a close circle, trying to keep themselves warm. Arthur decided that they should keep two people on watch at a time, and swap over every two hours. He then volunteered himself and Merlin for the first watch and the others quickly fell asleep.

Sitting at opposite ends of the glade, about ten or fifteen metres away from each other, the two men turned to their own silent thoughts. Fifteen minutes passed before Merlin heard a gentle whisper.

"Emrys." He turned to the trees on his right and, only a metre or so away, stood the elven priestess. He glanced around to Arthur, who hadn't seemed to notice her.

"What are you doing here?" Merlin hissed.

"It's my duty to protect you and Arthur."

"You can't let him see you."

She smiled from beneath her hood. "He won't," she replied. "Only those with Magic can see me now. I've used an enchantment."

"Can't he hear you?" At this question, she turned her gaze to Arthur, and so Merlin followed suit. The king was watching him with a bemused expression on his face.

"Were you talking to yourself?"

"Yes," Merlin answered, knowing that any other reply would be pointless.

"Right," Arthur said slowly. "There's not a day that goes by when I don't worry about you."

"Well, it's nice to know you think about me," Merlin jibed.

Arthur snorted, "Don't look so pleased with yourself." His manservant only smirked at him. The king rolled his eyes and turned his attention to the forest around them.

Merlin turned back to Iellwen.

"Just go. I don't need you."

She paused. For a moment he thought she was about to accept his advice.

"Where are you going?"

Merlin groaned and rubbed his eyes despairingly, "We're trying to find a camp of assassins heading for Camelot. One of them is a particular threat and Arthur wants to get rid of him."

"Name?"

"Barathon, the Unseen."

Iellwen's expression didn't change, but something in her eyes made her look suddenly paralysed with fear.

When she spoke, it was a hushed, urgent whisper.

"Turn back."

"What?" Merlin cried. He glanced to Arthur and then hissed. "Why?"

"You _must_ turn back. It does not matter why. You will all be in grave danger if you continue."

"We have to get to him first, if he wants to kill Arthur-"

"Arthur?" the priestess interrupted incredulously. " _Arthur_? He isn't looking for Arthur." Merlin blinked in surprise.

"Then who _is_ he looking for?"

"That does not matter. What matters is that you leave as soon as possible, unharmed," she urged.

"Arthur will never turn around." Merlin insisted.

"He must."

"He _won't_."

Iellwen glared at the young man before her and seemed on the verge of retorting when a twig snapped from behind Merlin and they both looked up into Arthur's bemused gaze.

"Who are you talking to?" the king asked, half amused, half concerned.

"No one," Merlin replied quickly.

"I get the feeling you're lying to me."

"There's no one out there. How can I be lying to you?" the king narrowed his eyes and scanned the forest. "See. No one." Eventually Arthur shot one last glare at his manservant and moved hesitantly back to his own watch post.

Merlin breathed a sigh of relief and turned back to the elven priestess, expecting to find her unmoved, but instead, she was gone.

XXX

Morning brought with it a light film of constant drizzle – the kind of rain that was most irritating to the uncloaked traveller. Merlin expected to see the mysterious priestess lurking nearby, waiting to persuade them to turn back, but to his surprise – and, if he were honest, disappointment – she was nowhere to be seen. The party travelled onwards swiftly and soon reached the area that was said to be the camp of the assassins. They arrived mid-morning at an open, well-used glade; it was the perfect place for a camp, but it was empty, with the exception of one object: a letter, set on a tree stump in the middle. A stone lay on top of it and Arthur removed this as he picked the parchment up.

He frowned at the message on the page and then passed it to Merlin.

"Can you read this?" he asked, watching the young man expectantly. Merlin looked at the letter. Upon it was a single line of writing, but it was in a language that the manservant couldn't understand, nor had ever even seen before. He shook his head as he reread the characters in front of him. "Perhaps Gaius will know."

Merlin looked up eagerly, "Does this mean we're going back to Camelot?"

"No."

In reality, it did. They spent the rest of the day searching the furthest borders and most places of camp to no avail. By the time they reached Camelot the following day, the rain had really set in and the king, his servant, and his knights returned home wet through to the bone and in bad tempers. Merlin trudged back to the physician's quarters miserably after seeing Arthur to bed and putting everything in order, hoping to find Gaius waiting for him and his dinner on the table. Instead, he found something quite different. Whether it was better or worse, he was too tired to decide.


	3. The Illness of King Arthur

Chapter 3 – The Illness of King Arthur

Slamming the door and letting his head hang wearily in the silence that greeted him, Merlin almost jumped out of his skin as a voice welcomed him.

"You took my advice." The young man's head snapped up and, sure enough, the elven priestess was sitting at the table, as if she had been waiting for his arrival for many hours.

"We didn't find him," Merlin retorted with a slow snappishness, approaching her grumpily.

"Of course you didn't," Iellwen snorted. "He's called 'Barathon the Unseen' for a reason." He watched her carefully. He was sure he saw a flash of glad relief, and he was sure that she saw that he saw. She coughed, for the first time since they had met seeming a little awkward, and pushed the plate she had in front of her across the table towards him. "Chicken?"

As much as Merlin was still irritated with the priestess for her previous interference, he couldn't resist the temptation of the steaming meal put before him. He sat down, thanking her with his usual courtesy, and he began to eat.

"I hope I didn't cause you any offense when I spoke in the forest," she said after watching him for a few minutes. When he shook his head – his mouth being full at the time – she continued carefully. "I only wanted to prevent a terrible misunderstanding." Merlin paused.

"What misunderstanding?"

The priestess gave him a small smile and shook her head. "It doesn't matter," she said quietly. Merlin watched her for a moment as she looked down at her hands. Again he saw the same sadness he had seen during their first encounter. It was resigned, yet hopeful – he didn't understand. And what did she have to do with this Barathon? Was he related to the misunderstanding she had mentioned? Merlin frowned thoughtfully.

"We found a note in the woods," he said. Iellwen didn't look in the least bit interested or surprised.

"Oh?" she replied half-heartedly.

"Hm, but we couldn't read it," he continued, turning around to search for it in his bag. "It was in a strange language."

"It's Elvish." Merlin's head snapped back around and to his amazement, the priestess had in her hand the note he had been looking for. No wonder she hadn't seemed surprised.

"How-" he started. She only smirked briefly before regarding the message with a sudden seriousness.

"This doesn't concern you," Iellwen said firmly, folding the parchment up and placing it on the table in front of her.

"What does it say?"

"It doesn't concern you."

Merlin watched the priestess and set down his cutlery purposefully.

"Does it concern you?" he asked. Annoyance flickered in Iellwen's eyes and she stood up as if Merlin had slighted her in some way.

"You're tired. Sleep." With that final comment the elven priestess swept out of the room, turning up her hood and not looking back. Merlin did nothing. How bizarre.

XXX

The next morning, Merlin talked over his encounter with the priestess Iellwen, the expedition to Camelot's borders and the incidents of the previous evening with Gaius. The physician agreed with him – Iellwen's behaviour was certainly strange. Unfortunately he couldn't shed any light on the contents of the note, but promised to find a book on Elvish that he was sure lurked somewhere in his chambers. With thoughts of Iellwen still at the forefront of his mind, Merlin set off for Arthur's chambers.

He was still so confused. Her duty was to assist Merlin and she had seemed so confident of it when they first met, but ever since she had heard Barathon's name she had become distant and distracted. It _must_ be him – he _must_ have a connection to her that was somehow disturbing. How Merlin was to uncover this connection, he hadn't a clue. Knowing that he had reached a dead end for the time being, he turned his attention to Arthur.

The king had requested that Merlin leave him to lie in for an extra hour to recover his strength. Now, as the young manservant entered Arthur's chambers, Merlin was hit with the sudden feeling that something wasn't quite right. He approached the bed quickly and his heart dropped to his stomach. The king was shivering violently in his sleep, sweat running rapidly from his face and chest. He had caught a fever.

Within fifteen minutes Merlin had brought Gaius to the king and Sir Leon was already organising the knights in Arthur's absence. The physician could recommend nothing but bed rest and plenty of fluids and so he left Merlin alone. The young manservant sat and waited. There were no chores left to do. He had finished them all by mid-morning. Arthur hadn't woken up yet and the only visits he had received were regular check-ups from the knights to ask about his condition.

By evening Merlin was almost witless. Arthur had only woken once and even then it was just ten minutes before he fell back to sleep. He refused the water that Merlin offered him and, when his servant persisted, the ailing king lost his temper and poured the water over Merlin's head instead. He seemed to be improving a little, but Merlin was no physician.

A knock resonated around the room and Merlin started from his seat beside the king's bed, in which he had been slowly nodding off. Gwaine entered quietly and approached the bed.

"How's he doing?"

"A little better," Merlin mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "He won't have anything to eat or drink though."

"You look exhausted," the knight said.

"I've been stuck here all day. The most excitement I've had is when Arthur poured water over my head," Merlin laughed tiredly.

"Go. I'll watch him for a bit," Gwaine insisted. "You get some air before we have to take you ill too."

Graciously accepting Gwaine's offer, Merlin set off to the edge of the city in the early evening air to stretch his legs. His muscles were a lot stiffer that he had anticipated and as a result it took a lot longer to reach the city gates. There were few people about and so Merlin sat himself down on the grass thankfully. He really hated being stuck inside.

He hadn't been there for more than a minute when a cloaked figure rode up to the city and passed him. A few seconds later the horse was brought to a halt and the rider dismounted, approaching Merlin with a serious purpose.

"You rode out with the king," the figure said in a gruff, strained voice.

"I'm his servant," Merlin replied, standing up.

"Give this to him." The rider shoved a folded piece of parchment into Merlin's hand roughly, mounted his horse with remarkable elegance and galloped off into the night. For a few moments the manservant was too stunned to move, but after a few seconds he opened the note and looked at it. It was the same writing as before. Had he just met Barathon the Unseen?

XXX

"What does it say?" Arthur asked. His voice was hoarse and weak and he could barely sit up in his bed. Merlin shook his head as he addressed the king.

"I can't read it. It's in the same language as before," he replied. Arthur coughed roughly, closing his eyes and pausing for a moment before continuing the conversation. His servant waited patiently.

"Can Gaius not translate it?"

"No, he can't." Merlin paused. Should he tell Arthur about Iellwen? Should he consult her? She had denied that the first note had been addressed to Arthur, but there was no doubt with this. They needed to know what it said. The manservant took a deep breath, "But… I think I know someone who can."

"Well, then find them."

"There's one problem with that."

"And what would that be?"

"This is written in Elvish," Merlin said cautiously. Despite his weakened state, Arthur still managed to maintain his kingly ferocity that so resembled his late father's.

"That's impossible," he snapped. "The Elves were wiped out during the Great Purge."

Merlin half-laughed, "I don't think so."

"I assume you're telling me this," Arthur continued after a thoughtful pause, "because the person you would bring to act as a translator is an Elf."

"Yes." Merlin said confidently. The king considered for a moment, closing his eyes. The manservant watched as his chest rose and fell with difficulty. It seemed he was not improving after all.

"Fetch whoever it is that you know and I won't ask how you came to be acquainted with them," Arthur said. "As long as this message is translated correctly and nothing bad comes of it, then I will let this pass."

Merlin bowed to the king and quickly left his presence. He had no idea how to contact Iellwen and he had no idea where she might be. Surely, she would be somewhere nearby? She was sent, after all, to protect Arthur. The likelihood was that she had spent the night outside the city walls, perhaps in the woods – it was doubtful that she would have spent the night at an inn for fear that she would be recognised as nonhuman. Merlin hurried out of the city. The streets were already empty and the night was upon Camelot like a thick, winter cloak. He could barely see enough to be sure that he was travelling unnoticed.

Suddenly, the sound of thundering hooves reached Merlin's ears. Out of the darkness, a horse as white as the moon itself galloped straight towards him. Upon the horse rode a figure in a rippling green cloak. It was Iellwen. On spotting Merlin in her path, she pulled her horse furiously to a halt.

"Emrys!" she cried. There was a poorly masked panic in her voice and, if her face hadn't been so composed, Merlin would have almost believed that she was afraid. "A vision – I had a vision of Arthur. Is he hurt?"

"Ill," Merlin replied in surprise. "A fever. But-"

"Quick. We haven't time to lose." Iellwen offered Merlin her hand and he climbed up on the horse behind her. He had barely swung his leg over before the priestess urged the horse into a sudden canter. Without thinking, he grabbed her waist to stop himself from falling and they raced into the castle, leaving the remarkably obedient horse in the square. Merlin led her up the stairs and through the corridors to Arthur's room.

As they approached the king's door, Iellwen started abruptly and began to run. As they reached Arthur, Merlin could see why.


	4. Lost in Translation

Chapter 4 – Lost in Translation

The king lay on his bed, covered in sweat and convulsing violently. Tossing off her cloak, the elven priestess leant over him and felt his forehead.

"His brow is on fire," she commented.

"He wasn't this bad when I left him!" Merlin insisted guiltily, standing by helplessly. "He was improving."

"Often a warning to prepare for the worst," Iellwen replied sternly as she rolled back the sleeves of her glowing white dress. It occurred to Merlin for the umpteenth time that she was outstandingly beautiful. She turned to him in annoyance. "Fetch me Meadowsweet."

Within minutes Merlin returned breathlessly to his king's chambers, followed moments later by Gaius, and handed the bundles of dry herbs to Iellwen. She took them from him and, grabbing a tin cup from the side of Arthur's bed, set about brewing him a tea. The two men watched her in silence as she worked. She muttered gently to herself, occasionally raising her hand from the fire to push her hair from her eyes. The glow of the embers and flames lighted her perfectly and, had he not known any better, Merlin could almost have mistaken her for an angel.

"You're dribbling."

"What?" Merlin snapped, shutting his mouth and grabbing his face as he turned to Gaius. "No I'm not."

"You may as well have been," the physician commented plainly, "the way you were staring at her."

"I was watching her work," Merlin protested quietly. Gaius simply raised an eyebrow and looked up as Iellwen stood, the beaker held in her hand. She carried it over to them.

"Try to get him to drink this."

"What is it?" Merlin asked.

The priestess looked at him in mock surprise. "Well, with the intensity that you were – how did you put it? – _watching me work_ , I would have thought that you would already know."

XXX

As embarrassed as he was, Merlin set to work as usual and, after much hassle, finally managed to force the meadowsweet tea down Arthur's throat. It had a near instant effect. The king's breathing became much easier and he seemed more awake than he had before. Despite his still weakened state, he insisted that the message should be translated immediately and in his own presence. Merlin relayed the request to Iellwen, who had refused to be in the room with Arthur whilst he was awake and had waited outside in the corridor.

"I will translate it, of course, but he cannot see me," she said plainly, taking the note from Merlin's hand.

"He specifically said-"

"And I specifically decline," Iellwen interrupted. The young warlock frowned in annoyance as she looked down at the note. A moment later, she handed it back to him. "It is of no importance."

"What does it say?" Merlin inquired. "Who is it from?" The priestess shrugged nonchalantly and began arranging her cloak on her shoulders.

"It's from Barathon. He only warns Arthur to stop searching for him and that what he is doing in the Kingdom of Camelot is nobody's business but his own."

"You're sure that's all it says?" Merlin said, looking down at the note intently.

"That's all it says," Iellwen confirmed with a forced smile. "Let me know how Arthur fares tonight and alert me if there is any serious change." Merlin's head snapped up in surprise.

"You're going?" he asked. "How am I supposed to contact you?" The elven priestess's smile was genuine this time as pulled up her hood and tapped her temple playfully.

She began walking away and as she did her voice rippled through his mind.

" _Goodnight, Emrys_."

"Merlin," he corrected aloud. She stopped and turned to him in confusion.

"Pardon?"

"My name is Merlin," the manservant said with a smile. Iellwen returned it warmly.

"Well, goodnight then… Merlin."

XXX

Dazed from the priestess's dazzling beauty, confused by the mixture of signals he was receiving and worried about almost every other aspect of the evening, Merlin returned to the king. Arthur was propped up against a sea of pillows, being checked over by Gaius as Mordred, Leon and Guinevere watched. He visibly brightened as Merlin returned and he looked expectantly over his servant's shoulder.

"Where is he?" the king asked immediately.

"Who?"

"The translator."

"Oh, he – he's gone," Merlin replied, deciding to let Arthur believe that the translator was male, "but he did tell me what the message says." Arthur frowned darkly.

"I specifically said to bring him to my chambers," the king snapped.

"I did," Merlin said quickly, "but you weren't well."

There was a pause as Arthur wiped his brow wearily. He was still in no fit state to argue and so he slid further down into his bed.

"Don't you want to know what it says?" Merlin pressed. With a lazy wave of the hand the king gestured for his servant to continue. "It warns you to stop looking for Barathon as his business in your kingdom doesn't concern you."

"From?" Arthur asked. "Who is it from?"

"Barathon, the Unseen."

"Well, perhaps he is less intelligent than we first thought," the king half-laughed. "If he thinks that one empty threat will make me abandon my right to dispose of anyone I wish, then he is almost too naïve to bother with."

"Are you sure it is wise, sire?" Leon said cautiously. "He doesn't seem to mean any harm to you."

"If he'd wanted you dead, he would have done it by now," Mordred added. Arthur shook his head stubbornly.

"No, we will not rest until he is found, now that he knows we are back in-" He was interrupted by a sudden coughing fit and Gwen rushed forward to help him to a sip of water, "Back in-" Again he choked on his words.

At this, Gaius interrupted.

"I think the king should get some rest," he suggested. "Perhaps this meeting can resume tomorrow."

"Of course," Leon agreed, exiting the room with Mordred at his side. Taking the opportunity of a break in the conversation, Gwen turned to Merlin.

"Why did you need a translator? Surely a person wishing to communicate with Arthur would have written in English."

"You'd have thought," Merlin replied, "but the note was in Elvish and neither Gaius nor any other person in the court could translate it." Guinevere paused thoughtfully for a moment, turning back to Arthur.

"So, this Barathon, he is…"

"He's an Elf. Yes," the king muttered, closing his eyes drowsily. Gwen looked significantly more worriedly as Arthur continued, "Which makes him an incredibly dangerous."

"Why?" Merlin asked suddenly. If he was dangerous, were all Elves? Even Iellwen? He had to know. "Why does it make him dangerous?" A little surprised by his servant's outburst, Arthur opened his eyes, paused slightly and then replied.

"They're creatures of Magic," he answered. "They're exceptionally fast, intelligent and their acute senses make them excellent warriors, not to mention their extensive knowledge of Magic in all its forms."

"Elves make formidable opponents," Gaius added. "It would be wise to steer clear of them all together, my lord." Arthur nodded as his eyelids began to sink heavily.

"If only that were possible. But we cannot let him walk all over us. Something must be done."

XXX

"You never contacted me." Merlin jumped out of his skin, sending the armour he had in his arms flying to the ground. As his hammering heart began to slow again, he turned to the girl stood behind him.

"A little warning would be nice," he complained, kneeling to the ground to clear up the mess he had made.

"I did knock," Iellwen said. "Perhaps you didn't hear me."

"Perhaps," he muttered. She gazed at him working, a look of despair passing briefly over her face before he continued. "It's alright. Just let me do all the work."

"How kind," she replied plainly, stepping into Arthur's chambers and shutting the door firmly behind her. "I assume you told the king of the translation." Merlin nodded as he lifted the armour from the floor. A gauntlet clattered to the ground again and he sighed, setting the pile on the table. When he turned around again to pick up the last piece, he found it waiting for him in the outstretched hand of the elven priestess.

Merlin took it from her with a smile. "Oh. Thanks." She returned his smile and indicated to the table. They both sat down.

"Arthur – has he improved over these two nights?"

"Yes, slowly. In fact, he's meeting with the council at the moment, despite the fact that he's still too weak," he replied. Iellwen nodded in satisfaction and set about helping Merlin repair the small faults in the armour in-between them. He watched her carefully. There was so much he didn't understand about her yet. How did she know of Barathon? Why was she so adamant that she shouldn't meet Arthur? And why, when he looked back to her suddenly, did Merlin see her watching him with that sadness in her eyes? One thing at a time. Carrying on nonchalantly, the young warlock slipped in a casual comment. "If you wait, I can introduce you."

Iellwen's head snapped up immediately and she glared at him a little. "As I said before, Merlin, I have no intention of meeting Arthur, and I'm sure he has no intention of meeting me."

"But _why_?" the manservant pressed. "You don't tell me anything and yet you still expect me to trust you."

"Is trust too much to ask?"

"Yes, if it isn't reciprocated," Merlin said firmly. The elven priestess remained silent and so he continued, "Trust isn't something you can just _take_. You have to give it too."

They watched each other motionlessly for what seemed like an age until Iellwen looked down at her hands, picking at the wood of the table. Then she nodded. Looking up to Merlin, the young warlock could see that he had finally got somewhere.

"Alright," she replied, "where do you want to start?"

"Who is Barathon?" Merlin asked immediately.

"An Elf," Iellwen said honestly. For the sake of keeping peace, the manservant let this comment slip.

"Who is he to you?"

"He belonged to the same tribe as I do. He was a… friend of my mother's."

"Are there many tribes?" At this question, Iellwen paused and her gaze hardened a little.

"Not as many as there were," she answered coldly. "My tribe are the isle elves. Only we and the wood elves still survive. There may also be mountain-dwellers, but it is not certain." Merlin nodded his understanding. It seemed Uther had killed more in the Great Purge than he had let on.

"You said ' _belonged_ '. Does he not anymore?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"His path is his to walk and his alone," the priestess said bluntly.

Merlin could tell he was beginning to push her a little too far and so he moved swiftly on to his next question.

"The note – the first note – was it for you?" he asked.

"Yes, it was."

"And it was from-"

"Barathon, yes."

"What did it say?" Merlin said cautiously. He expected her to snap at him, in the same manner that she usually did, but instead Iellwen remained calm as she answered him.

"It asked me to meet with him."

"And did you?" the manservant asked immediately.

"No," she replied with the same directness. Merlin paused. There was so much he still didn't understand. Everything she had told him only left him with more questions. Iellwen, seemingly annoyed at the sudden silence, took it upon herself to continue the conversation. "I suppose that you want to know why he wished to meet with me." Merlin nodded and so she spoke again, "He wanted something from me – something I couldn't give him."

"And what was that?"

"My allegiance," she said. Merlin nodded his understanding and was about to speak when the priestess stood up abruptly. "Are we done?"

The warlock stood too and looked her in the eyes.

"One more question," he said carefully. She nodded her consent and he continued, "Why don't you want to meet Arthur?" Iellwen's eyes sparkled mischievously.

"Ah, now, I can't tell you that."

"But-"

"You will find out soon enough. In fact," she interrupted triumphantly, "I believe you will do so before the week is out." Merlin's heart hammered in his throat. Why couldn't she just tell him _now_? It was so unfair.

"Fine," he said eventually.

Iellwen smiled. "No more questions?"

"No more questions," he agreed with a small smile.


	5. Onwards to Aldarhold

Chapter 5 – Onwards to Aldarhold

The next morning when Merlin walked into Arthur's chambers expecting to see the king sleeping, he found himself in the middle of utter chaos. Stopping short of the table, he took in the scene around him. Various articles of clothing were strewn across the floor; four different swords lay exposed on the table covering a mass of maps and documents, some of which had worked their way onto the floor. The king's bed itself was almost invisible beneath an array of supplies ranging from food to gold and from cloth to curious wooden daggers. Somewhere further inside the room a person scuffled and, moving carefully and incredulously around the table, Merlin spotted Arthur rooting in his wardrobe for an evidently hidden object. Gwen stood by his side.

"Don't you think you should wait-"

"What happened here?!" Merlin interrupted. The queen looked around in surprise and Arthur withdrew himself from the wardrobe. He regarded his manservant with some kind of unexplained displeasure and marched over to the bed, picking up one of the bags on his bed and slinging it over his shoulder.

"Barathon has been spotted near Aldarhold on the western border," he said, now taking a blanket from a large pile that Merlin hadn't noticed before.

"And you're going after him?"

" _We're_ going after him. The knights are waiting in the courtyard."

"Arthur," Gwen protested, recovering from her initial shock and moving to intercept her husband before he picked one of the swords from the table, "you won't stand a chance against him in your condition. You've barely recovered-"

"Guinevere, we've been through this. I can't let this opportunity pass by." Putting the bag and blanket on the table and taking his wife's face in his hands, Arthur gave her his best confident smile. "I'm in capable hands. You know that."

"But-"

"No buts," he said firmly. He kissed the top of Gwen's head, grabbed the relevant objects from the table and turned to his manservant. "Come on, Merlin."

"Sire, are you sure this is a good idea?" the young warlock began to protest. Arthur rolled his eyes as he walked past him and out of the room.

"Don't you start."

Shooting Gwen an apologetic glance, Merlin followed Arthur as far as the entrance hall before veering off and heading back to Gaius's chambers. There, of course, he found Iellwen waiting for him. The fiery annoyance clearly displayed on her face told him everything.

"Don't even bother," Merlin said instantly.

"You know that Barathon will kill him without a second thought!" she cried. Ignoring the priestess's comment, Merlin grabbed his bag, filling it with anything and everything he deemed useful or essential. Indignantly, she continued, "You can't let him go!"

"What about you?" Merlin snapped, whirling around to face her.

"What about me?"

"If you met with him he would leave Camelot and Arthur alone. This is your fault not mine," he said heatedly. Fury blazed in Iellwen's eyes.

"It's your job to protect him!"

"And yours. You told me so the first time that we met."

"How am I supposed to help if you won't let me?!" Silence echoed around the room. For a moment, Merlin thought of retorting. But he didn't. He was too tired.

"I don't have time for this," he said flatly. She said nothing in return, so he slung his bag over his shoulder and walked past her without another word.

The knights were indeed all waiting for him in the courtyard.

"Come on, Merlin," Arthur called to him. "What's taken you so long? Was it difficult to choose which comforter to bring?" The knights laughed as Merlin mounted his horse. He ignored the king's good-natured joke and urged his horse into a sudden walk.

"Are we going or not?" The men watched him leave in bemusement and only fully realised he was gone when the sound of hooves on the cobbles had faded into the general noise of the city. Shooting each other worried glances, they followed the manservant out of the courtyard.

XXX

Late afternoon found the small party of seven deep within Kestrel forest. Heading the procession was Merlin, still glaring ahead in stony silence. The knights had continued with their usual banter all day, but by now they were becoming weary and the chatter had almost stopped completely when they finally reached the small village of Aldarhold. Children ran to the muddy edges of what could only be classed as a poor excuse for a road, excitedly catching their first glance of a real knight. The older members of the community hung back more warily, no doubt suspicious of the noble strangers and their purpose. One man, however, stepped forward.

"You're here for the elf."

"Yes," Arthur replied, pulling his horse to a halt in front of the brave villager.

"He passed through here not an hour ago," the man said. He raised his arm and indicated to road behind him that led out of the village. "He was headed for the valley."

"Thank you." Arthur gave a swift nod to the man before signalling to the knights follow him. Together they urged their horses onwards and left Aldarhold behind them.

The silence and tension was almost unbearable as they journeyed further and further away from Camelot. Every small noise and every tiny disturbance in the undergrowth set their hearts hammering in their chests. Merlin had just about given up all hope when a sudden gust of wind roared through the trees. Several of the horses whinnied in fear, but the men had no time for comforting words. Stood several yards away was priestess Iellwen. Merlin could tell from the calm expression she wore that none of the others could see her. He knew what she was about to do and he opened his mouth to protest. She shook her head defiantly and raised her hand.

Then it all went dark.


	6. One More Question

Chapter 6 – One More Question

The light swirled through Merlin's vision and he could hardly tell which way was up as he tried to push himself from what he could only assume was the ground. He ought to have been accustomed to being knocked out after so many years in the king's service, yet it still surprised him how sparkly everything appeared afterwards. On his third attempt to stand, the world soared back into place. The knights lay scattered around him, their horses lurking nearby. None of them seemed much more harmed than he was and so he turned his attention to the voices he could heard not too far away.

He spun around, careful not to do so too quickly, and he spotted Iellwen almost instantly. She stood where she had been stood before, but this time she was not alone. Barathon stood with her. They were facing each other, with a stance that suggested that they were not friends and neither did they trust each other's intentions. Merlin crept closer.

"It is all I ask of you, nothing more, nothing less," Barathon said with the same strained voice that Merlin had heard only nights before.

"And I cannot give it to you," the priestess replied flatly. She continued after a pause, "You ask too much of me, father."

Merlin's heart leapt to his throat. Oh. That was why she didn't like talking about him.

"All I ask-"

" _All you ask_ is that I betray my family – my people – in exchange for what? A trinket that will do you no good and will bring you no glory," Iellwen cried fiercely. She shook her head. "I can't."

"It is so much more than a trinket. You know that." A look of near madness burned in his emerald eyes and he raised his fist. "It would give me a way to bring the mortal-kind to their knees."

"The weapon you speak of was never made to be wielded by someone such as yourself."

"Why not? I am the only one who dares to try," the elder snapped back quickly. Iellwen made a low guttural grunt of annoyance and the same fire that had been in her father's eyes moments before lit in hers.

"This lunacy is why mother sent you away!" she cried despairingly.

"No, child," Barathon muttered, his voice dripping with condescension as he took a step towards his daughter. Merlin tensed, ready to spring forward, but the elf only continued quietly, "what made your mother send me away was fear. Fear that I would lead you astray. Fear that I could master the Staff of Mourie. Fear that I was right." The elven priestess made no reply. She looked on her father with a look that Merlin couldn't place. Was it disdain? Anger? Fear? Iellwen glanced down at the ground and then turned from Barathon.

"Leave now. Before they wake."

"I will not leave without what I came for," he answered coldly. The priestess stopped in her tracks.

"I told you. You will not have it."

Suddenly, Barathon raised his hand.

"Don't touch her!" Merlin hardly recognised his own voice as he ran to put himself between the two of them. Iellwen turned, startled as the young warlock lifted his hand to match the elf's. Barathon's own surprise was quickly masked by a smirk.

"Merlin-"

"So," Barathon sneered, " _this_ is the great Emrys?"

"She told you to leave. Do as she says," Merlin replied flatly, deciding to ignore the patronising tone of the older man. Barathon began to laugh and Merlin could stand no more of him. In one swift movement, the elf flew through the air.

He landed hard on the gnarled roots of a tree and Iellwen cried out, "Stop!" Merlin's eyes hardly moved from Barathon. He didn't trust him. Iellwen continued, "Let there be no fighting."

"I do not stoop to begging," the elder said brashly, standing with remarkable speed, considering that the blow that had floored him would have winded even the most supple man, "but I _will_ have what I want, if not now then another day." Neither of the two that faced him made a comment as he summoned his horse with a whistle. Merlin's hand didn't lower until the elf was almost invisible amongst the trees and even then he still kept it slightly before him.

Finally, the young manservant turned to his friend.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked gently. He couldn't bring himself to be angry. She still stood with the same regal pose that even Arthur had trouble maintaining at times, but he could see from her shaking hands that the confrontation had taken a lot out of her. She smiled sadly, hardly looking him in the eye as she walked past him and over to where the knights still lay amongst the undergrowth.

"You wouldn't have understood," she said, brushing Arthur's hair from his face and feeling his forehead. "He is not yet fully healed. He should be put to bed as soon as you return to Camelot." Merlin knelt beside her and took her hand in his. She looked to him in unmasked surprise. He smiled and she returned the gesture briefly before he let her hand drop.

Merlin sighed and then spoke in a whisper.

"I was wrong?"

"Pardon?"

"I do have another question."

Iellwen regarded him with some kind of suspicion. "Oh?"

"Why are you sad?" he asked carefully. She looked down to the ground and stood.

"Please…" she whispered, turning from him and making her way to a glistening white horse that he hadn't noticed before. Merlin stood too.

"Because whenever I look at you and I catch you off-guard, you're watching me like I'm a dying man," he called after her. She stopped, but didn't face him. "What do you know that I don't?"

"The truth," she replied. As she walked away she dropped a piece of parchment on the ground. Merlin didn't stop her. There were so many things that he wanted to know, but he would get answers out of her later. He watched her ride away and then collected the parchment that she had dropped. The same elvish was written on the paper, but this time there was a translation beneath it:

 _My business in Camelot is done. You will never hear of me again in your kingdom._

XXX

Needless to say, Arthur was not satisfied with the note. However, there was very little he could do about it. Although he would never admit it, the search for Barathon the Unseen was a lost cause. The blow was dulled slightly by the rumours flying around court that Arthur and his men had banished him personally. None of them – for the sake of retaining the faith of the people – made any attempts to correct these rumours. The king was forced to bed rest until he was fully recovered and Merlin was forced to tend to him: a less than appealing job. Iellwen didn't make an appearance until the day that Arthur was deemed well enough to attend the next day's court.

Merlin shut the door behind him wearily, almost falling onto the table where Gaius was serving dinner.

"Is he honestly so tiresome?" The young warlock's head snapped up. She was really making a habit of sneaking up on him. The priestess smiled and for the first time Merlin could see her eyes light up too. She made her way over to the table and took the ladle from Gaius's hand, indicating for him to sit.

"You'd be surprised," Merlin replied finally, thanking her as she handed him a bowl full of steaming broth. He tore a chunk of bread from the loaf on the table. "Even illness can't stop him being a prat." Iellwen laughed as she sat herself down beside him. Her voice sounded like the chime of bells and Merlin could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

"And how are _you_ coping?" she asked gently.

"Like I always do."

"How is that?"

"Reluctantly," he said with a smile. She shook her head, but she didn't quite manage to appear displeased.

Taking a spoonful of the broth, Iellwen spoke again.

"Where do you want to start?"

"What is the Staff of Mourie?" Merlin asked immediately.

"An immensely powerful weapon, crafted from twenty sacred trees that each represent a virtue. It channels the magic of whoever should wield it and can both create and destroy on a monumental scale."

"The belief of the Elves was – is," Gaius corrected himself after a stern look from Iellwen, "is that anyone who should not possess these virtues, yet elects to use the Staff, does so at their own peril."

"Which is precisely why my father is foolish to believe that any good will come of him having it," Iellwen added.

"But he wasn't asking you for the Staff," Merlin interrupted, "he was asking you for something else."

"A key," Iellwen answered, tapping Merlin's bowl austerely and waiting until he had begun to shovel the broth into his mouth before continuing, "a key, not in the literal sense, but in the sense that it would lead him to where the Staff of Mourie is hidden." Merlin attempted to speak, swallowing quickly and consequently choking on his bread and so Gaius spoke for him.

"Do you know where that might be?"

"Such knowledge is only bestowed on the High Priestess," Iellwen said with a small squirm, "and, as such, I can only assume that title when my mother dies and leadership of my people falls to me."

"Can't she tell you?" Merlin asked once he had recovered his voice. The young priestess shook her head.

"It is forbidden."

Merlin nodded his head in acknowledgement of his defeat. Carefully, he took another spoonful of the broth. A sudden thought crossed his mind. "Are you staying in Camelot?"

"Yes." Iellwen paused. "Unless you feel that my presence is unnecessary."

"No!" Merlin cried quickly. Blushing awkwardly as he tried to avoid Gaius's amused gaze, the young manservant turned to his friend. "I only meant, _where_ will you stay? What will you do?" Iellwen shrugged.

"I am sure there is any number of lonely widows willing to take in a young woman. As for work, I will begin my search tomorrow morning in the market," She looked to him, almost expectantly, "unless you have a better idea."

Merlin smiled. "I think I do."


	7. A Friend of Mine

Chapter 7 – A Friend of Mine

Arthur was sat in bed, ploughing through the pile of paperwork that had been accumulating over the period of his illness. Guinevere sat beside him, deep in concentration as she embroidered the hem of one of her dresses. The king looked up as Merlin entered, but paid him no more attention than that.

"Sire, I-"

"Not now, Merlin. I'm busy."

"It won't take more than a minute of your time," the young warlock insisted.

Arthur sighed, "Fine. If it will make you go away, what is it?"

"Last week you mentioned the amount of work you need doing-"

"Which you still haven't done," the king interrupted. Merlin pursed his lips.

"That's not the point," he replied. "My point is that, with the Harvest Festival being tomorrow, I thought you might appreciate some extra help." Arthur looked at him quizzically, putting aside his paper work and watching the manservant intently.

"What did you have in mind?"

"Another servant, perhaps, a maid," Merlin suggested carefully.

"Where would I find such a person? After Sefa's disappearance Camelot appears lacking in suitable, willing candidates to fill her place." At this, Gwen spoke.

"I've already said, Arthur. I can manage without a maid to wait on me constantly," she insisted, but Arthur raised his hand to stop her.

"I want to hear what he has to say."

Merlin nodded his agreement – it wasn't every day that Arthur actually _wanted_ to listen to him – and continued.

"A friend of mine-"

"Not a friend from the tavern, I hope," Arthur said sternly. It look the young warlock all his strength not to roll his eyes.

"No, not from the tavern. She – we knew each other growing up and she's come to Camelot in search of work. She's hardworking, never complains. She can cook, sew and… various other things – and – and-" Merlin blathered. Arthur shook his head and took the paper work up again.

"Merlin, she had the job from the moment you said 'not from the tavern'," he said with a small, slightly patronising smile. "Tell her she starts tomorrow morning. I will meet her here after breakfast."

The next morning, a much healthier-looking Arthur looked Iellwen up and down. She stood meekly before him, a cloth bonnet on her head to cover her ears and the waxing moon on her forehead scrubbed away. Arthur stopped pacing.

"What did you say your name was again?"

"Luned, my lord," the young priestess answered humbly. Merlin suppressed a smirk. She really was an amazing actress. Arthur nodded.

"Luned," he repeated, sounding her name out. After a thoughtful pause he started, "You will attend to the queen and, when she does not need you, you will assist Merlin in his duties."

"Yes, my lord."

"She is out walking at the moment, but she will be back before midday. See that you are ready for when she returns."

"Yes, my lord."

"I have a council meeting. Merlin." The king turned to the young warlock who snapped out of the tired trance he had been in. Arthur narrowed his eyes. "You just… do what you're supposed to do."

"Of course, sire."

As the king walked out of his chambers, Merlin and Iellwen shared a smile. Oh yes, he would like working with her.


	8. Superstitious Minds

Chapter 8 – Superstitious Minds

"You know what I've just realised?" Merlin asked Iellwen as they both scrubbed the mud from Arthur's riding cloak. The priestess shrugged her shoulders. "It's been almost three months since you arrived in Camelot and there hasn't been any trouble at all. It's almost like your presence is-"

"Don't say it," she interrupted. Merlin smirked.

"You're not superstitious, are you?"

Iellwen frowned at the word as if it were an insult. "I believe that words are powerful weapons, not to be used in folly," she replied sternly. Merlin pursed his lips to prevent a smile slipping out and his companion turned back to the basin between them.

Over the time they had spent working together, the two had become close friends. The only time they had ever been fully separated had been during Samhain, but then he hadn't expected her to stay for the festival. The young priestess slept on the floor of Merlin's room, insistent on not taking his bed as he had offered. She had remarked that she had spent time in far worse conditions and would not hear of Merlin's fussing. He had also learnt that, beneath her composed and collected exterior, she had a not altogether unpleasant sense of fun. Of course, she still spoke little of her background, but she was often willing to answer Merlin's questions on any forms of Magic she was familiar with. He didn't fancy her though. He was certainly fond of her, and she wasn't exactly an eyesore, but his feelings went no further than that. They never would. They couldn't, of course.

"The king will be returning soon, Merlin," Iellwen said, wiping her hands on the front of her dress and tucking back the few strands of hair that had escaped the cloth bonnet she wore to hide her ears. Merlin watched as the curls rippled down her back. She frowned. "Can I help you?"

"Hm? No, I was just thinking I should probably collect his breast plate from the armoury."

Iellwen nodded.

"I will clear this away," she added in confirmation. They both stood and Merlin was almost at the door when she called out after him, "Oh and Merlin, don't forget his ceremonial sword. He'll need it for the Yule Festival tomorrow." The manservant nodded and left the room.

XXX

The banquet hall was buzzing with life. Intricate interweaved patterns of holly and ivy hung from every candle bracket and the walls were decorated with evergreen boughs and mistletoe hung in the doorway. The unmistakable aroma of pine, cedar and cinnamon mixed with the rich warm scent of the caraway cake that lay teasingly on the tables, soaked in cider so delightful that it raised the hairs on the back of necks. Merlin eyed the feast hungrily, but the contentment emanating from his friends soon dulled his jealously and he settled into conversation with Iellwen and Mordred who were both new to Camelot's festival of Yule. Out of the corner of his eye, Merlin watched Arthur. It had been a long time since he had seemed so happy. The stress of the past year had put a lot of pressure of him and he deserved at least a few trouble free months. Gwen, sat by his side, looked positively radiant and from the angle Merlin was looking from, he could see that their hands were linked together beneath the table. The young warlock smiled.

"At home we wassail the trees," Iellwen commented. Merlin turned back to the conversation just in time to see Mordred nod in agreement.

"We did that too, when I was a child," he replied, "It feels odd, doesn't it, not-" The knight was cut off abruptly by the doors of the hall swinging back violently on their hinges and hit the wall with an almighty racket. The entire hall fell immediately into a shocked silence and Arthur stood defiantly as a girl covered from head to toe in an alarming range of foliage threw herself sobbing to the floor in the centre of the tables.

"My lord, my king, please, please help me!" she cried. Those gathered looked to Arthur expectantly and Guinevere half raised herself in her seat, clearly distressed by the girl's anguish.

"Why do you need my help?" he asked carefully. "Who has caused you to come to begging at the feet of a king?"

"A terrible man, sire, a terrible, _terrible_ man. He attacked me in the forest and he – and he hurt me," the girl wept. "He was a sorcerer, sire, I am sure of it. Please, sire, you must help me."

"I am your king and it is my duty to protect you from men such as the one you mention," Arthur nodded to Iellwen, "Luned, take this girl and provide her with a bath, food and a bed for the night." The priestess curtsied to the king and hurried, virtually having to lift the girl from the floor and carry her from the banquet hall. The king turned to address his knights.

"We ride tomorrow at dawn."

XXX

As soon as they were out of sight and the doors of the banquet hall had been closed on them, Iellwen forced the girl roughly against the wall.

"Don't think I can't see through you, Kiana," she sneered, tugging at the girl's hair. "You're getting sloppy." Kiana grinned almost maniacally and Iellwen grimaced, letting go of the girl. A servant carrying a fresh jug of wine passed them on his way to the hall and Iellwen, knowing it was not safe to talk so openly, pulled Kiana down the corridor.

"I admit, simply changing hair colours was a long shot." she said calmly once she had been tossed into an empty guest room, straightening out her rags. Iellwen checked that no one had followed them before closing the doors and turning to the conversation. "But at the same time, I did not expect to find you lurking in King Arthur's court, least of all _serving_ him." The young priestess ignored Kiana's comment.

"Why are you here?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

"I asked first," Iellwen snapped impatiently. Kiana smirked.

She took a brush from the dressing table against the wall and began to comb the dirt out of her white blonde hair.

"It is no business of yours," she replied. Iellwen glared at the girl who only laughed and pouted mockingly. "Must you always be so suspicious of my motives, sister?"

"I am not your sister."

"We are of the same ancient tribe, so I think you are." There was a slightly threatening tone to Kiana's voice that the elven priestess did not like.

"I know that your presence is not a good omen," she said. "If you mean to harm Arthur-"

"And what if I do?" Kiana interrupted, ceasing brushing her hair and taking a step towards her kinswoman.

"I will not allow it." Kiana snorted at the priestess's comment and resumed her brushing.

"Oh, I think you will allow me to do whatever I wish," she said condescendingly, "I take it that no one at court knows of your descent." Iellwen remained silent. There was something more that the girl was not telling her and probably wouldn't still if asked. Iellwen would have to play her cards carefully. Kiana set the brush back on the dressing table and indicated lazily to the large basin in the centre of the room. "Are you not going to prepare me a bath?"


	9. Mistletoe

Chapter 9 – Mistletoe

Half an hour later, the basin was full to the brim with steaming water and Kiana stood shivering sky clad beside it. Iellwen watched her as she swirled the water with her hand, waiting for it to cool to a bearable temperature; perhaps the elven priestess had heated it too vigorously with her enchantments and in thinking of it she smirked. The girl had thinned out since they had last seen each other. It must have been at least ten years, if not nearer to fifteen, that they had spent apart. That had been when Kiana had gone her own way. Following their father. Now she was no longer a flourishing youth of twelve. Her hips jutted out unhealthily and her legs looked as if one swift blow would snap them clean in half. Iellwen almost smiled as she noted the blood smeared between Kiana's legs – a nice touch. Looking back to the girl's face Iellwen noted how little they shared. Her own features were dark and angled, almost chiselled, but Kiana had the look of a well-fed merchant's daughter. Her button nose and moist brown eyes as well as the smooth curve of her ears marked her out for what she was. A half-breed.

Both so deep in thought, neither of them heard the approaching footsteps until the door was thrown open clumsily by Merlin.

"I thought you might want Gaius to – oh!" The manservant spun around and blushed a deep red as Gaius almost walked straight into him. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know-"

"It's alright, really," Kiana snivelled, turning on the waterworks as easily as she had always been able to do. "I have no pride left to guard…" She collapsed dramatically against the side of the basin and Gaius moved to assist her in climbing in. It was all Iellwen could do not to roll her eyes.

"Merlin, fetch Kiana some broth from the kitchen. I am sure she is hungry after her…" The priestess looked to the girl who glared quickly through her tears. Iellwen took a deep breath and finished her sentence, "ordeal."

"Of course," Merlin nodded, sneaking a quick glance at his friend. She could see the searching look in his eyes. She knew he couldn't read her. It was one of the first things she had been taught during her training, how to read others but not be read yourself. He pulled his eyes from her and left the room without another word. The knot in her chest twisted tighter. Could she possibly be feeling guilty?

Hearing a splash, Iellwen turned away from the door. Kiana held her knees to her chest in the centre of the basin and Gaius was checking the cuts and grazes on her face and arms. Iellwen settled herself against the wall to watch. Kiana did nothing but glare at her. The young priestess would have been amused if she hadn't been trying to induce the Sight. It was a difficult thing to do, to summon a vision. She closed her eyes and as much as she tried she could see nothing but flickering images – Arthur and Kiana riding side-by-side – a heavily cloaked knight standing against the sky – a rearing horse. She was almost about to give up when the face of a woman flashed through her mind, if it even was a woman that she saw. Her features were horribly distorted and covered in warts and her hair fell in uneven wisps about her head. The teeth that remained stuck out at strange angles and her eyes were full of a kind of madness that Iellwen had never seen before.

With an involuntary cry, the young elven priestess fell to the floor. Somewhere to her right she faintly heard a bowl clattering against a table and the contents sloshing over the edge, and within seconds she could feel Merlin's strong arms on her shoulders as he pulled her up into a sitting position.

"Iellwen, what is it?" he asked anxiously. "What did you see?" She opened her eyes and looked into his.

"A woman – or not a woman – I'm not sure. I – she…" Iellwen stammered. "Nothing. I saw nothing."

Merlin frowned, "What did the woman look like?"

"I – I don't remember," the priestess answered truthfully. The moment she had opened her eyes the image had disappeared, leaving her with nothing but a feeling of dread. Her companion looked at her disbelievingly. "Honestly, I don't." Looking anything but happy with Iellwen's claim, Merlin helped her to her feet and waited until she had steadied herself before going to clean up the mess he had made.

Kiana now sat, still glaring, at the table, wrapped in a thick nightgown and shawl. It seemed that she had been in touch with the Sight for longer than she had thought. Gaius sat beside her. Merlin mopped up the contents of a second bowl of broth. When Iellwen looked at it questioningly, he shrugged.

"I thought you might be hungry."

"No, thank you. I couldn't eat," she replied. The flicker of hurt that passed across his face almost made Iellwen curse her pride. She nodded to Kiana. "What has she been telling you?"

"Nothing yet," Gaius said. "We wanted her to eat first."

"No need," Iellwen snapped. She took the seat opposite Kiana and looked the girl in the face as she spoke, "I can easily tell you what she'll say. She'll tell you that she lived high in the valley on her parents' farm and that's where he found her. She'll tell you that her parents were killed in the struggle and, had she not escaped when she did, she would have been too. She'll tell you that he was an evil sorcerer who spoke of nothing but his warped vendetta against Arthur and, when she's finally finished lying through her teeth, she'll break down crying and play the damsel in distress."

A stunned silence fell across the room. Although she never took her eyes from Kiana, Iellwen could feel Merlin and Gaius staring. In sudden defiance, Kiana shot up.

"Iellwen is of Magic," she cried. The triumphant gleam in her eyes lasted no longer than a few seconds. She looked around at the three of them. "Have you nothing to say? Will you not report her to your king?" They all remained still as Iellwen tried to keep her smile from showing on her face. Merlin sat next to her at the table.

"I don't believe you have had the honour of being acquainted with my good friend, Emrys," Iellwen said calmly. Kiana's eyes widened as she looked to Merlin and then quickly narrowed again. She was not priestess-trained like Iellwen. Merlin looked to the elf warily, surprised that she had used that name. She shot him a quick glance. " _She will not give you away. I know her too well to allow her to do that. But it would be useful all the same to keep her in fear of you._ " Merlin nodded his understanding. The priestess felt a pang deep in her heart. He was far too good to her, far too accepting. He had every right to know that his name was well known to the elven-folk. He had every right to know why Kiana was now scared of him. He had every right to snap at her and demand to know everything that she did, but instead he sat there in quiet submission. Still, she could see the look in his eye that told her he would not let it go so easily.

XXX

Merlin was hot on Iellwen's heels as they entered the physician's chambers later that night, long after settling Kiana into her chambers and seeing the Yule feast ended. She barely had time to pull the bonnet from her head before he spoke.

"What was that about?"

"I know my own sister's mind." The young warlock stopped in his tracks and regarded his friend quizzically. "Well, half-sister. Barathon is father to us both."

"What is she doing here?" he asked. Iellwen shook her head and sighed deeply. "Well, whatever it is it can't be good. You didn't exactly seem to be on the same side." He paused briefly. He had never seen the priestess take such a disliking to a person and it worried him greatly. "We need to get rid of her."

"Merlin, do you truly believe that she is here to kill Arthur?" the priestess answered wearily.

"Well, what other motive could she have for being in Camelot?" Merlin retorted quickly. Iellwen climbed the stairs to their room and sat heavily on the nest of blankets that acted as her bed, wiping her forehead.

"I don't know," she admitted. There was a quiet pause and, seeing her distress, Merlin sat beside his friend.

"Didn't you see her?" he asked gently.

Iellwen frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Didn't you see her coming? Didn't a vision warn you, like it did with Arthur?" The young priestess laughed bitterly.

"Of course it didn't. She's a half-breed and half-breeds are my blind spot."

"A half-breed? You mean-"

"Her father is my father, but her mother was a mortal whore," Iellwen spat. She sighed, "It's a shame really. Kiana was such a nice girl in her youth – caring, affectionate, not a hateful bone in her body." Merlin watched the elven priestess, almost mesmerised. He could hear the melancholy in her voice and he felt bad for her. She couldn't have had an easy life with Barathon the Unseen for a father and such a confusing family tree.

"What happened?"

"What do you think happened?" She looked to him with a raised eyebrow and they answered her question in unison, "Barathon." Sharing a smile, it felt for a moment as if they had no troubles and were simply two young people sharing a joke together. Merlin felt the smile fall from his face as he remembered – they could never have that, or at least he couldn't.

"What are we going to do?" he whispered, looking down at his hands as he twiddled his thumbs anxiously. He could feel Iellwen's eyes on him as she spoke, sliding her hand into his and his heart skipped a beat at the contact.

"It's up to you."

"I feel like we should do _something_ ," he sighed. "But you're right. I don't believe she has any real intention to bring harm to Arthur, at least, not while we're still in Camelot."

"That is what worries me. What can she possibly have planned?"

"We're going to have to keep a very close eye on her," Merlin decided. "Arthur's company will leave at sunrise and I will leave with them."

"So will I," Iellwen added. The young warlock shook his head.

"No. You can stay here." The priestess opened her mouth to protest but he silenced her. "Don't argue. Protecting Arthur is my responsibility and with the history between you and Kiana it would be better to keep you as far apart as possible, in Arthur's presence at least." The elven girl sighed and nodded her agreement.

In the slowly dying candle light, Merlin looked to Iellwen. Her own gaze was fixed on their entwined fingers as she stroked the rough skin on the palms of his hands – worker's hands. A small smile played across her face as she looked up at him briefly. Her gaze carried on until she reached a spot above their heads.

"Mistletoe," she whispered.


	10. Deal Or No Deal

Chapter 10 – Deal or No Deal

Merlin barely had time to take a breath before she leant forward and pressed her lips gently to his. It only lasted a second, but the young warlock's blood still flooded from his head to all the wrong places and his chest tensed so tightly that he felt as if he might never breathe again. Iellwen pulled back and smiled at the stunned expression on his face. He swallowed loudly and for a moment there was a sudden silence.

"I should – I need – I – to – erm – Arthur's stuff-" he stammered.

"Let me," Iellwen interrupted firmly. "You're the one who will be up before dawn tomorrow, or rather, today." Without waiting for assent, she stood up and placed the bonnet back on her head, tying the strings in a neat bow beneath her chin. She stopped at the door and turned back to him. "Get some sleep."

As the door shut behind her, Merlin let himself fall back against the wall. Well, that was unexpected.

XXX

Things became even more unexpected the next morning. Iellwen had been asleep when Merlin had woken and he prepared for the journey as silently as was possible. As the sun rose, he woke her to tell her he was leaving. She dressed swiftly and, wrapping her cloak around her shoulders, followed him without a word to the courtyard where Arthur's company stood assembled.

"Come on, Merlin," Arthur complained, "even Gwaine's here before you." Merlin rolled his eyes and the king had to turn away to hide his slight smirk. The elven priestess held the reins of the warlock's horse as he attached the saddle bag. As he moved to mount, she grabbed his arm.

"There are only six of you. You must be careful," she told him firmly. He nodded his agreement.

"I will," he replied quietly. She forced a small, worried smile and kissed him quickly on the cheek before he lifted himself onto his horse and turned towards the gathered knights. She backed away to the steps where the queen stood waiting.

Merlin could feel the questioning stares of the knights, but he pretended not to notice and they pretended not to care. They broke into a trot and the precession, led by Kiana and Arthur, headed from the citadel of Camelot and out into the lower town surrounding it. They were leaving by the west entrance as that was the direction in which they were headed – towards the mountains near Badon. They never reached the mountains.

In the middle of the afternoon, Kiana called a halt to the journey and indicated to the end of the track they were on with a shaking hand.

"There he is." Merlin followed the stretch of her arm with his eyes and reached the tip of her finger just in time to see a figure emerging from the shadows of the trees and advancing towards them. Arthur dismounted alone and stepped a few paces in front of his horse and the figure stopped when they were jousting lance apart. Merlin's heart leapt as he recognised the man.

"King Arthur," he said, "I don't believe we have been introduced." A smirk played across his face and Merlin glanced quickly to Kiana. She showed no intention of returning to him, but the small gleam in her eyes made him feel uneasy.

"Barathon the Unseen, I presume," the king replied cautiously, noting his opponents pointed ears.

"You presume correctly."

"Not so invisible now," Arthur noted plainly. Barathon threw back his head as he laughed.

"That's good," he said gleefully, the rough edge to his voice disappearing briefly. "I have been told of your bravery and swordsmanship, but I wasn't aware that you were witty too." Arthur paused before replying.

"I didn't come here to trade niceties."

"No," Barathon said. The smile fell from his face and he nodded to Kiana, who cowered appropriately. "You came here because of the girl."

"I came to bring you to justice."

Barathon studied Arthur carefully. He ran his fingers across the hilt of his sword absentmindedly and Merlin had time to study his features. He and Iellwen definitely bore a certain family resemblance: the slant of the cheekbones, the dark hair and the deep green eyes, to name a few. The hem of his brown tunic was fraying, as was the fur-lined cloak that covered it. He wore a quiver and bow slung carelessly across his back and his short hair was matted as a clear result of neglect.

"I'm not sure that I like the sound of that," Barathon muttered darkly, "but I will make you a deal all the same."

"I don't make deals with creatures like you," Arthur said firmly. The elf almost smiled. "If you will not come with us freely, then you will be taken by force."

"I would like to see you try." A heavy silence filled the air and Barathon shot another glance to his daughter before continuing. "I will make it simple for you. Answer me one question and if you do so correctly I will allow you to escort me to your dungeon." Arthur considered for a moment and Merlin watched him intently. This seemed too easy. Why would Barathon effectively arrest himself? What would he gain? The king nodded slowly.

"And if my answer is wrong?" he asked. "What then?"

"Then I get the girl," Barathon replied.

"What is the question?"

"You must agree to the terms first," the elf said with a smirk. "I will not be bested by a mortal, not matter how witty." Arthur remained stony-faced. He turned to look briefly at Kiana before turning back.

"I agree to your terms," the king answered boldly. "Now what is the question?"

This time, Barathon looked straight at Kiana as he spoke and she held his gaze with wide eyes.

"What is it that women most desire?" he asked. The knights looked to and from each other in sheer confusion and Arthur turned to them, as if expecting them to give him the answer. Gwaine shrugged overtly and Mordred only glanced sheepishly at Kiana before shaking his head. The others made no suggestions. Merlin watched as Barathon smiled. "You needn't answer now. Return to this road on new years' day and you may present me with your answer then."

And just like that, he was gone.

XXX

" _What is it that women most desire_?! What sort of question is that?!" Arthur complained loudly as he stormed across the courtyard and up the stairs into the castle. "How can I find a common desire amongst all the women in my kingdom in ten days?"

"You could always ask them," Merlin suggested. The manservant ducked in the nick of time and Arthur's fist swung across the empty space that had only just been vacated.

"Not all of them."

"Well, then a cross-section."

"Oh good," Arthur replied wryly as he walked away, leaving Merlin in the corridor. "Well, I'll ask my wife and you can ask yours."

"She's not my wife!"


	11. The Affairs of Women

Chapter 11 – The Affairs of Women

"I don't like this at all," Iellwen muttered, watching Merlin as she idly stirred her broth. The manservant shook his head.

"Neither do I," he replied. "Do you think Barathon has any intention of coming freely to Camelot? I mean, it doesn't seem like him to… play fairly."

"You're working on the basis that you will find the answer to his question, assuming that one exists in the first place," Gaius said as he placed a slice of leftover caraway cake on the edge of Iellwen's bowl. She thanked him, but slid it across to Merlin as the physician turned away to put the remainder of the loaf in the cupboard.

"What do you mean?" the young warlock asked through a bite of broth-soaked cake.

"You said it yourself, Merlin," Gaius said, returning to the table, "Barathon is not one to play by the rules and he may simply be buying himself more time."

"More time?" Iellwen repeated. "Are you suggesting that he may have an ulterior motive?"

Gaius nodded. "It is more than likely."

"But that still doesn't explain Kiana's presence in Camelot," Merlin insisted.

"A distraction, perhaps," Iellwen replied with a shrug. "There could be any number of reasons for her being here, but the more immediate problem is formulating an answer to that dratted question." Merlin nodded. He couldn't agree more.

XXX

For eight days, Arthur and his men questioned any woman they could lay their hands on, metaphorically or not, and Mordred was tasked with keeping a note of the answers they were given. Some knights rode to the outlying villages whilst others journeyed no further than the lower town. Everywhere they went they received different answers and it seemed that few women had answers in common. Arthur began to despair. Merlin watched as the king progressively became more and more agitated. Gaius was consulted on several occasions but he could give no clearer answer than the knights could find themselves. At the end of the ninth day, the night before they would begin their journey to the road to Badon Hill, Arthur called a council.

Arthur frowned, intense hatred radiating from his eyes and burning into the paper in front of him.

"This is honestly all we have?" he asked the knights gathered at the table. They looked to and from each other guiltily as Arthur read out the list, " _Noble husbands, good health, riches, plentiful harvest, land and… less bothersome customers_?" The king turned to Gwaine and the young knight grinned.

"Other than unmerited slaps, that's all I got from the tavern girls," he explained. "And the one who was kind enough to answer me didn't actually use the phrase 'less bothersome customers', if you can believe it. I was paraphrasing."

Arthur mumbled to himself as he crossed it off the list, "I'm sure."

"What did the queen say?" Mordred asked. "She is the wisest amongst us when it comes to the affairs of women." At this, the king squirmed uncomfortably.

"What the queen said is neither here nor there. None of these answers even sound half right," Arthur complained, quickly avoiding the topic Mordred had suggested. He could see Merlin from the corner of his eye, giving the king an inquisitive look. Arthur ignored him. "What is it that _all women_ most desire?"

"Surely that's an impossible question, sire," Leon interjected. "How can the desires of all the women in the land be summed up in one?"

A silence echoed about the council chamber, but it was cut short by Luned.

"May I interject, sire?" she asked softly. Arthur nodded his assent.

"By all means, Luned," he replied "It's not as if we're getting anywhere."

"Perhaps you are thinking too literally. Perhaps what is sought by all women is not something physical or something that one may own, but something that may be felt." The knights looked dumbstruck at the young maid servant as if she had spoken a foreign language.

"Happiness!" Mordred cried and Arthur snapped his fingers, immediately scribbling down the word on his parchment. The council looked relieved. However, Percival did not seem so convinced.

"Not all women are unhappy," he said. "Do contented women then wish for sorrow?"

Arthur sighed, "This is hopeless." None of his knights denied it.

XXX

The council went on late into the evening and many heated discussions took place. By the end of it they had succeeded in nothing other than wearing themselves out. Arthur returned to his chambers so late that Gwen and Iellwen had already gone to bed and Merlin lay dozing at the table.

"And what time do you call this?" the manservant muttered wryly, shaking himself awake and standing to greet the king. From the look he received, Merlin guessed that his comment hadn't been appreciated. Arthur threw himself into the chair by the fireplace and Merlin automatically began tossing more wood on to the fire to keep it going. After a heavy pause, the manservant spoke, "Are you no closer?"

"If we were, I wouldn't be in such a foul mood," Arthur snapped. He stayed silent for a moment as Merlin stood watching him, his hands clasped behind his back. Suddenly, the king snapped, "This whole thing is impossible. Everybody is different. Everybody has different needs and desires. How am I supposed to find one that covers them all?"

Merlin couldn't reply.


	12. A Simple Enough Request

Chapter 12 – A Simple Enough Request

They set off in the early mists of the morning, a small company of nine. Iellwen insisted on accompanying them, for the sake of Kiana, and reluctantly the king agreed. Heavily cloaked, the sombre procession journeyed west towards Badon. It was clear to them all that Arthur had still not decided on his answer. Mordred was sticking to 'happiness', Percival insisted that the answer should be 'good health' and Gwaine – well, Gwaine's suggestion was less than appropriate. By midday the mists had still not cleared up and the steady ascent up Badon hill brought the party to an infuriatingly slow pace. As Gwaine and Elyan began to argue on the merits of sending a scout ahead, Merlin dropped back to draw level with Arthur. The king showed little acknowledgement of his servant.

Merlin attempted to draw his gaze. "You seem worried."

"Of course I'm worried," Arthur snapped. "I still don't know how I'm going to answer. Even after interviewing half of the women in Camelot we couldn't remotely find one wish in common." Merlin paused before asking what he had been burning to since the council meeting.

"If you don't mind me asking, sire, what answer did the Queen give to the question?"

Arthur glared at Merlin and mumbled, "None of your business." Merlin turned to look forwards where Iellwen and Kiana rode silently in front of them.

"Surely it's _her_ business," he said softly, nodding to Kiana. "Whatever Gwen said might be the key to the question."

"It's not."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because she told me that her greatest wish was to bear me a son."

"Oh."

The two men fell silent. Merlin looked to his master. The king didn't seem visibly upset, but Merlin knew him better than that.

"It will happen," he said, trying to mask his uncertainty.

"I know," Arthur responded. The king paused as if debating whether to share his thoughts with Merlin. He took a breath. "But it's been almost three years since we were married. She's growing impatient."

"These things can take time."

"I know."

"Then why do you seem so upset?"

Arthur sighed loudly and was about to reply when Gwaine shouted for the party to stop. Kiana's horse whinnied and kicked at something in the mists just ahead of them and the king rode past the two women to draw up beside Gwaine and Elyan.

"Let us pass." He said. Merlin strained to see the person Arthur was speaking to.

A gruff voice spoke from the mists. "I know of your plight." This time Elyan's horse snorted and backed up hastily. Gwaine struggled beside Arthur to keep his horse from doing the same. Arthur dismounted and drew his sword.

"Show yourself."

Slowly and steadily a hunched figure sloped into the clear air. A thick cloak of matted animal hair covered their face and their steps were low and unsure as if made by a blind man. As they reached Arthur they lifted their veiny, swollen hands and pulled back the hood of their cloak. Immediately, Iellwen recoiled with a poorly-hidden gasp and the reactions of the others were very similar.

Before them stood the ugliest hag of a woman any of them had ever laid eyes on. Her face like her hands was swollen unevenly and her skin was grey and peeling. Her hair, if it could even be called hair anymore, floated in fine silver wisps about her face. She was truly hideous. Merlin watched as Arthur tried desperately to hide his disgust.

"I know what the Elf has asked of you," the crone declared. "I have the answer."

"You?" Arthur asked warily. "You have the answer?"

"' _What is it that women most desire?_ ' I know it truly. I know the single wish of every woman in your kingdom and all others."

"What answer would you give, then?"

The hag cackled loudly and the birds in the surrounding trees scattered in terror. "I will not give it freely, my lord. I seek payment for my services."

"Fine," Arthur agreed, "I have gold."

"I have no use for gold," the hag replied immediately. Arthur grinded his teeth.

"Then what do you want in return-"

"Arthur," Elyan interrupted, "how do we know we can trust her?"

"I will give you my answer and if you think it worthy then you are to reward me," the hag croaked desperately. "My request is simple enough."

Arthur paused and his brow creased in contemplation.

"What is it that you want as a reward?" he said finally.

"I wish you to find me a husband amongst your men," the hag said with a sinister smile.

The king took a step back and immediately replied, "No. I'm sorry, but I could not confine a man to a life with… you." He turned around and mounted his horse, slipping his sword back into it's sheath.

"I'll do it." The entire party turned their heads towards the centre of their group. "I'll marry you," Gwaine said as he dismounted and advanced towards the hag. The glee in the woman's eyes was almost sickening.

"Gwaine, no," Arthur protested. "I can't ask you to-"

"But you didn't ask," Gwaine interrupted. He turned back to the woman, "Now you must give me the answer." The hag waddled forwards eagerly, and the knight bent slightly as she handed him a slip of parchment and whispered in his ear. The party merely sat in stunned silence and watched as Gwaine tried desperately not to shudder. Pulling away from his betrothed, he nodded and handed the parchment to Arthur.

"We will meet you here as we return to Camelot," Arthur told his knight with solemnity. "Thank you, Gwaine. You have done Camelot a great service." Gwaine nodded his head with a poorly forced smile.

Arthur turned to Kiana and for the first time since they had stopped Merlin noticed the discontented look on her face. This obviously hadn't been part of her father's plan.

"You said your family lived in these parts. How much farther until we reach the top of the hill?"

"Not far," she answered. "Less than an hour's ride, even in this weather." With one final glance to Gwaine, Arthur indicated for the rest of them to continue onwards.

XXX

Kiana was right. Within the hour, the mists began to break over the peak of Badon hill and the party came to a halt on the flat. The snort of a horse alerted them to the presence of another.

"I was starting to think you'd chickened out." The air began to clear and Barathon became invisible. He stood next to a jet black horse in the centre of the road. A smirk played across his face.

"You struck a bargain with the wrong man, then," Arthur retorted impatiently as he dismounted swiftly. Merlin couldn't see Kiana's face but as her father looked in her direction she gave a small nod. Merlin had no time to try to understand the pleased expression on Barathon's face before the elf spoke.

"Do you have an answer for me, or am I to claim my prize?" he sneered. Arthur moved a few paces forward, "What is it that women most desire?"

The king took a deep breath. He flexed his hand and, shaking his head slightly, he opened the parchment that the old hag had given him.

Unsurely he read it out. "Women most desire… to have the power of choice."

The look of dismay on Barathon's face was priceless. It evolved quickly into deep anger and Merlin could almost feel the rage pouring off him.

"It's seems that I will be claiming my prize instead," Arthur said, tucking the parchment into his pocket and slipping the manacles from the saddle of his horse.

" _Be ready_." Merlin heard Iellwen's voice echo through his mind. Arthur advanced towards Barathon, trying desperately to hide his apprehension. The elf, having seemed to have regained control over his expression, looked directly at Merlin. Much like Iellwen, his expression was unreadable and as he raised his hands, the young warlock flinched. The king fitted the manacles on his prisoner's outstretched arms without a problem. They locked with a solid clank that echoed down Merlin's spine. Well, that was easy.

XXX

"I don't like this," Iellwen muttered for the thousandth time.

"You don't say," Merlin replied sarcastically, his voice echoing into the table on which he was resting his head.

"It was too easy."

"Yes."

"He would never willingly be taken."

"No."

"What is he playing at?"

"I don't know."

"Are you even listening to me?"

Merlin lifted his head. "We've been going over this for the past four hours," he answered crossly, "and we are still just as clueless as we were at the beginning." Iellwen glared at him from across the foyer where she was pacing and so Merlin continued. "There is no reason for him to be in Camelot. He has already made it clear that he has no interest in Arthur, he knows that he's not going to get any information out of you and Kiana only seems to be here because of him."

"There must be something we missed."

Merlin stood and walked a few paces towards her.

"Are you sure you didn't see anything else?"

"No, all I saw was the woman." They both paused and grimaced, "Poor Gwaine." They fell into silence and Iellwen rubbed her eyes.

"It's the middle of the night, we should be asleep," Merlin murmured. Iellwen raised an eyebrow at him.

"Won't sleep," she said stubbornly.

"Well, I'm going to bed, "Merlin retorted, making his way to the door, "He's being questioned. Nothing will happen tonight."

* * *

I AM SO SORRY, I have been working pretty much straight nights as well as working on a paper that ten times more complicated than I though it would be so I have been incredibly bad at uploading. Hopefully once I submit my work I will be back to the world of the living!


	13. Great Big Wooden Stick

Chapter 13 – Great Big Wooden Stick

Merlin barely slept a wink that night. He could hear Iellwen tossing and turning on the floor. The only time she stopped was to sigh and grumble to herself unintelligibly. Merlin was eternally thankful for the dawn when he could justify leaving his room and dragging himself towards Arthur's chambers. He set about making a fire and selecting Arthur's clothes for the day before collapsing into the chair by the fireplace.

He couldn't remember falling asleep but he must have, because the next thing he remembered was waking with a start to find Arthur looming over him, a displeased look on his face. Paradoxically almost falling to the floor in his desperation to stand, Merlin spluttered.

"I – I don't – I wasn't supposed to fall asleep." Arthur only raised an eyebrow and so the manservant continued, "I didn't sleep at all last night." This time the king let slip a small smile.

"Nor did I," he chuckled, turning to around to take his sword and belt from the table.

"Urgh," Merlin said. "For vastly different reasons."

"Really?" Arthur asked in feigned coyness. Merlin turned from the king and began to arrange wood in the fire that he had been neglecting.

He snorted. "Well the last time I checked I didn't have a wife." Arthur lent up against the edge of the table and began picking at the loose threads on his scabbard absentmindedly. Merlin stood and moved to begin serving breakfast.

"So you and Luned," Arthur posited, "there's nothing going on there?" Merlin pulled a half-amused, half-innocent face at his master.

"Luned? No." Merlin shook his head and Arthur set his sword behind him and began to pace around the table nonchalantly.

"That little kiss? In the courtyard? Yule?" The manservant pursed his lips and shook his head more fiercely still. Arthur stopped a few feet away from his servant and raised his eyebrows adopting a parental stance. He lifted his shoulders suggestively and Merlin mimicked his movements.

"What kiss? We didn't kiss," Merlin retorted, half-laughing. "I think I would have remembered that."

"You did!"

"No, we didn't."

"Merlin, we all saw it."

Merlin gave a short, sharp sigh. "On the cheek. It was barely one second." He added sternly, "That was it." Arthur attempted to stare his manservant down as a mischievous smirk played across Merlin's face.

"Fine," Arthur finally surrendered. He sat down at the table and started to tuck in. Merlin set about clearing up various serving dishes left from the previous night. The king watched him and after several minutes of silence spoke as if to himself. "I guess you can't believe everything you hear."

"What did you hear?" Merlin asked, not fully concentrating on the conversation as he attempted to lift a stack of precariously balanced tableware.

"Not much really," Arthur murmured through a mouthful of ham. He swallowed and eyed-up his next forkful. "Only… there's a rumour going around that you're sharing a bed."

An almighty clatter rang out through room as the plates in Merlin's arms fell suddenly to the floor. Amused surprise played across the king's face. The horrified look on Merlin's face was amplified by the speed with which he blushed from ear to ear. Arthur set down his cutlery and stood. Gripping Merlin firmly by the shoulders and not even trying to hide his enjoyment, Arthur comforted his friend.

"It's alright, Merlin. Although," he said, looking down fake thoughtfulness, "pre-marital relations _are_ a sackable offence…" Finally picking up that Arthur was only trying to wind him up Merlin gave the king an exasperated look and extracted himself from his master's grip. He set about collecting the discarded plates. Arthur sat back at the table. "Well, is it true?"

"No. She sleeps on my floor."

"On your floor?"

"She refused to take the bed."

"Well at least one of you has morals," Arthur muttered. Merlin gave Arthur his best shut-up-you-prat look from where he was knelt the floor.

"Nothing's going on," he said firmly. "We're just friends."

"And I'm going to unite Albion," Arthur laughed. Merlin almost joined him in irony.

Before he could make a retort the door sung open and Iellwen entered the room. Closing the door behind her, she turned to face them.

"Sorry, sire, I just came to collect… the laundry," she said unsurely. Merlin looked awkwardly to the jug in his hand and he felt Arthur's gaze turn to him. "Is something wrong?"

"No," Arthur replied, "Not at all. You may continue with your duties." Merlin could hear the smile in his voice and gritted his teeth. Iellwen curtsied and hurried into the bed chamber. A few seconds later she returned with a basket of clothes. Merlin glanced up for long enough to see the questioning look on Iellwen's face before looking back down at his hands. He heard the door shut.

"Well, that wasn't awkward at all."

Merlin could very easily have clobbered Arthur around the head.

XXX

A few hours and a great number of breathing exercises later, Merlin stood side by side with Iellwen in the great hall, watching Arthur pace back and forth.

"He's still said nothing?" he asked.

"Not since I told you about ten seconds ago," Gwaine replied flatly. Arthur didn't even notice.

"It doesn't make sense," Arthur said. "I want him guarded as closely as possible. No one is to enter the dungeons without my express permission."

"Yes, sire." Gwaine gave a small bow and left the hall with Sir Leon and Sir Elyan in tow. Silently, the king indicated for his advisors to leave and they quickly dissipated, leaving behind an air of tense uncertainty.

Arthur turned to Iellwen.

"How is the girl?"

"Comfortable, my lord," she said reluctantly. "It seems she has not experienced any long-lasting effects of her ordeal." Arthur nodded, his fingers pressed firmly to his lips.

"Does she have any insight into what he may be planning?"

"None that she reports, sire."

"See if you can get anything out of her. At this point the slightest bit of information may have a significant bearing on the situation. Go gently though, the poor girl has been through enough as it is."

XXX

"Get off me!" Kiana screeched.

"Talk." Iellwen pinned her sister back on to floor with a thud.

"You're hurting me!"

"Am I?" Iellwen asked dryly through gritted. "Terribly sorry." Kiana replied with a dirty look.

"I'm not telling you anything," she snarled. Iellwen tightened her grip on the girl's forearms and watched as the poorly masked pain seeped into Kiana's eyes.

"Don't think that I won't break your arms." Iellwen leaned forward to whisper into Kiana's ear. "I will break every bone in your body, one by one, if I have to. It would be my pleasure."

With their chests pressed closely together she could feel the younger girl's breathing and heartrate slow.

"Father was right about you."

Iellwen drew back. "What are you talking about?"

"You could never muster the power to wield the staff," she said quietly. "You're weak. You let your heart rule you-"

"At least I have a heart."

"You will lose all of your power, all of your ambition, until one day all it will take to disarm you is a single blow to the heart. You're a pathetic, snivelling mess who is so blind to her own feelings that you can't even see-"

With a swift blow to the head Kiana's eyes rolled into the back of her head and she became silent.

"Do stop wittering," Iellwen muttered in annoyance. Climbing off her sister's unconscious body, the priestess wiped the back of her hand across her forehead and sighed. "Well that was easier than I thought it would be."

"What the hell have you done?!" Iellwen spun around to find Merlin stood dumbstruck in the doorway.

"We were just having a little chat."

"I can see where you hit her!" Merlin exclaimed as he closed the door behind himself.

"Yes. That'll bruise nicely," she replied as she turned back to admire her handiwork. Merlin gave her an exasperated look. "I was proving to her that brains will always trump brawn."

"Looks like you were both."

"Thank you." Merlin rolled his eyes at her and Iellwen shrugged.

"Did you at least make some progress?" he asked.

"She mentioned the staff."

"Do you think that's why they're here?"

"I don't know." Iellwen paused. "Does Arthur store magical artefacts in the castle?" Merlin looked her squarely in the eyes.

"You've got to be kidding me. You honestly think that Arthur would have kept a great big wooden stick instead of just using it for firewood?"

"No, but he might have kept the key to finding the great big wooden stick if it was sparkly and important enough."

There was only one way to find out.

* * *

 _Sarah: And I'm back!  
_

 _*ducks to avoid rotten fruit incoming*_

 _I have been snowed under with work recently and have been unable to post. So in order to show how very sorry I am (and also because I am obsessive compulsive and cannot stand the number 13), this is the first of two chapters I will be posting tonight. You know you love me really._


	14. The Vault

Chapter 14 – The Vault

After careful planning, Merlin and Iellwen, with the counsel of Gaius, decided that raiding the vault was probably best done at night. Merlin spent the majority of the day in the freezing cold assisting the knights and their king with battle drills. The queen insisted on watching, as she did frequently, and before long quite a crowd of noble ladies followed suit. Amongst their party was Iellwen who, despite Gwen's protests, sat humbly at her queen's feet and stoked the fire in front of them.

Merlin watched her from across the field. Her dark hair glimmered in the winter sunlight and appeared to have streaks of gold running through it. She was in animated conversation with the queen and gesticulated wildly as Gwen laughed. She really was a fantastic actress, Merlin thought. He paused for a second. How would he know which Iellwen was the real one: the priestess or the maid? He still had so many questions. They had barely had time to think since the kerfuffle at Yule. Everything had been going so smoothly up until then. The… kiss had confused him. It hadn't happened again and in a way Merlin was glad of it. He could justify the first one. It was the mistletoe. That was the only reason.

"See anything you like?" Gwaine asked pointedly. Merlin dropped the armour that he had gathered in his arms in surprise and scrambled to pick it up again.

"What?"

"What were you staring at?"

"Nothing," Merlin replied, collecting the last of the armour and placing it on the table next to him.

"Not Luned, then?"

"What?" Merlin snorted instantly. "Why would I want to stare at her?" Gwaine shrugged his shoulders as he meandered over to the table.

"No reason. She is very beautiful though."

"Is she?" Merlin said with poorly forced nonchalance.

"Surely you've noticed?" Gwaine replied. When Merlin shrugged his shoulders the knight smirked. He copied the servant's actions. "Oh well." The mysteriousness caught Merlin's curiosity.

"What?"

"Well, if you don't want her, I guess she's mine for the taking."

XXX

"I am _so_ sorry."

"Merlin, stop apologising and just give me the cloth," Gwaine said with a good-humoured smile. Taking the rag from the servant's outstretched hand he held it to his nose and tried to mop up most of the blood.

"I didn't mean to," Merlin continued anxiously, dithering about uselessly as the knights around him watched in amusement. "I didn't think I'd actually get you."

"Really, Merlin, I'm quite impressed."

"What's going on?" Merlin spun around to see Arthur approaching, sword in hand. The young warlock open his mouth to speak but Gwaine beat him to it.

"Merlin punched me."

Arthur look to Merlin, then to Gwaine and then back again. After a pause he spoke again.

"What's _really_ going on?" he asked. Merlin felt himself turn a deep shade of scarlet and he nervously scratched the back of his neck.

"Merlin punched me," Gwaine repeated, briefly examining the blood-stained rag before pressing it back against his nose.

"Ha!" the king laughed. "Why?"

"None of your business," Merlin muttered. Arthur looked to Gwaine. The knight shrugged.

"Fine," Arthur said eventually. "I suppose you're just in a fighting mood."

Merlin shrugged. "Perhaps I am."

"Good," Arthur said with a smile. "You can be my next opponent."

"Wait – wha-? " Merlin barely had time to voice his surprise.

A sword flew out of nowhere and with sheer luck he caught it at the hilt. A loud chorus of jeering erupted from the gathered knights as Arthur made his way out to the field. Merlin followed him reluctantly. He could see the ladies gathered by the small fire begin to chatter amongst themselves but all he could see was the concerned look on Gwen's face and Iellwen shaking her head in what seemed like pity.

"What an idiot," she muttered, jabbing the fire austerely. Not exactly filled with confidence, Merlin decided that his best bet was bargaining.

"Arthur this is stupid, can't we just-" he started. He never got to finish.

The king swung his sword and Merlin only just ducked in time. It seemed bargaining was not going to work. Arthur swung again and this time Merlin brought his sword up to parry the move. The swords rung out loudly and Merlin deflected Arthur's sword. Huh. Maybe he was getting the hang of swordplay.

One minute later the young warlock lay flat on his back in the middle of the field. He was fairly sure he had bruised every inch of his body, but he couldn't actually move enough to find out. He looked up to see Arthur stood above him, a bemused look on his face.

"I think that's enough for one day, don't you?" he said, prodding Merlin gently with the end of his sword. The manservant moaned in pain and Arthur nodded to two nearby knights. He spoke as he made his way back to the castle, "See to my armour, would you."

Two sets of sturdy arms lifted Merlin and set him on his feet and he tottered unsurely for a second before finding what was left of his balance.

"What was that about?" Iellwen asked brusquely. Merlin tried his best not to blush.

"Nothing," he muttered, "just a misunderstanding." She watched him intently as he moved cautiously to pick up the trail of discarded armour that Arthur had left behind. He winced in pain as he stretched out his arm and Iellwen swatted it away and lifted the breastplate herself.

"You need something for the pain. You can't work like this."

Iellwen insisted on taking Merlin back to Gaius to be checked over. Still embarrassed, and sincerely hoping that Gwaine wasn't being a blabbermouth, the young warlock remained in stubborn silence for the rest of the afternoon. Fortunately, Iellwen had her own duties so spent very little of that time with him. They were only reunited when the night came and the royal couple went to bed, leaving them free to explore the castle vault.

XXX

The vault guard fell to the ground with a solid thump and Merlin sighed.

"I said 'don't knock him out'."

"I didn't," Iellwen protested as she climbed over the man's body and examined the lock on the steel gate. "I put him to sleep." She muttered an enchantment and the gate swung open.

"I really hope you mean temporarily," Merlin murmured as he followed the priestess through the open doorway and into the vault.

"Impressive." Iellwen admired the chaotic arrangement of artefacts before them. Somehow managing to get his foot caught, Merlin crashed into Iellwen's back.

"Urgh, what a mess."

The elf looked at him incredulously. "Have you seen the state of your room?"

"Our room," he corrected, moving past her and into the centre of the vault.

The walls were coated in rickety wooden shelves which, in turn, were covered in various odds and ends. Merlin could hardly identify a single one. In the light of the torches several things glittered and glowed and Merlin wondered if Iellwen too could feel the incredible power that pulsed through the room. There was a scuttling noise from somewhere behind them and they both whipped around to find the source.

"A rat?" Iellwen suggested unsurely. Merlin shuddered.

"I really hope so." As they turned back to the humongous task at hand the manservant sighed deeply. "How are we supposed to find anything in here? Do we even know what we're looking for?"

"Not exactly." Merlin turned to look at his friend.

"It's a yes or no answer."

Iellwen glared at him and answered through gritted teeth. "No." They looked back to the vault.

"Are you sure your mother said it was a key?"

"My mother never told me anything, she wasn't allowed to," Iellwen said. "All I know is through old stories and rumours. It is said that the key guides the owner to the staff's resting place."

"But the key could be anything."

"True." Merlin began sifting through objects laid out on tables with his free hand.

"Could it literally be a key?" he asked, examining what looked like a ball of moss.

"Well, the staff has been wielded by many men and each would have his own place to hide it. None would share a key," Iellwen said carefully.

"So it couldn't be a map then," Merlin added, "the same logic would apply."

"Not a map," she agreed.

Again the pair fell into silence. This was hopeless, Merlin thought. They had no clue what this 'key' was and even if they did, how were they going to find it in this mess? The warlock looked up as one of the shelves above him creaked threateningly. Behind him he could hear Iellwen searching through the chaos. He paced down further inside the vault and wandered into the far left corner. Crumbling books and ancient manuscripts were piled high and crammed onto every shelf. Merlin picked one up and turned it over in his hand. 'Black Magic'. Out of curiosity he flicked it open. None of the words were even legible anymore, the ink had worn away.

"How can there be a key to something than does not remain in the same place?" Iellwen muttered. Something shiny caught Merlin's eye and he slid his torch into a bracket on the wall. The priestess continued thinking aloud, "There must be some way to track it. Perhaps an incantation that leads to it? Maybe the words are in one of these books…" Iellwen moved to stand near Merlin, gazing up at the wall in front of them. "It could take years to go through all of these." Merlin held before him a plate of bronze, barely the size of his hand. He examined it carefully as the young priestess muttered on, more to herself than to him. He looked at the small dial that seemed to point off to his right. He rotated it. Still it pointed right. It was a compass. Merlin frowned.

"This compass…" he murmured.

Iellwen didn't hear him. "But surely an incantation would be documented elsewhere as well; it would seem ridiculous to have only one copy. No, that mustn't be it…" Merlin spoke louder this time.

"Iellwen, look at this compass." The priestess fell silence and came to his side. She looked blankly at it.

"What about it?"

"Does nothing strike you as odd?"

"No, why should it?"

"This compass – it isn't pointing north."

They looked at each other blankly for a second before she wrenched it out of his hands and inspected it closer.

"Look, Merlin," said Iellwen as she pointed to a faded Elvish inscription along the side of the bronze plate. "It reads, ' _The Staff of Mourie lieth before, wield it false and live no more_ '."

"This is it!" Merlin cried happily. "We found it!"

"We found it," Iellwen repeated in shock. She looked from the compass up to Merlin. "Merlin, you're a genius."

"Well…" he started, grinning from ear to ear. He was about to continue with a sarcastic remark but something about the way the priestess was looking at him made him stop. As if controlled by some other force he lifted his hand to her cheek. She stared blankly back as he moved towards her, pressing his forehead to hers. He could hear them both breathing heavily as their noses touched.

"We should leave before the guard wakes," Iellwen whispered.

"We should."

Neither of them moved.

"We should go," the girl repeated. Merlin nodded. Iellwen pulled back slightly and looked into his eyes. "Something doesn't feel right."

"Sorry," Merlin said quickly, taking a swift step backwards. Iellwen frowned.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Iellwen paused briefly. "We need to leave." She took her torch from the wall bracket, "If this is what Barathon came to Camelot for then it is only a matter of time before he searches the vault himself. He can never know that we were here." Her dress billowing out behind her, Iellwen strode towards the gate.

Merlin breathed deeply. Oh boy.


	15. He's Gone

Chapter 15 – He's Gone

Shortly before the break of dawn the bells rang out loudly over Camelot. From her window, Guinevere could see the knights and guards running backwards and forward across the courtyard in panic. Courtiers and lower townsmen alike watched in confusion. It was one of the things she enjoyed greatly about now being part of Camelot's inner circle – she always found out what the bells were for. The queen wrapped her shawl tighter around her shoulders as she turned from the window.

"Luned?"

"Yes, my lady?" the young maid replied as she appeared around the corner, tidying her white linen bonnet.

"Find out what the bells are for."

Luned curtsied. "Of course, my lady."

"Oh and Luned," Gwen called. The maidservant stopped at the door, "Do stop curtsying." They smiled at each other and Luned nodded.

In truth Gwen still found having a maid difficult. She hated asking for things to be done for her and would much rather join Luned in her duties than sit back and watch. Her young maid, however, had no qualms about being firm with her mistress and consistently reprimanded the queen for attempting to participate in servants' work. Luned, although often brusque and stoic, had what Gwen would call a good heart. She was a good listener and was able to offer a stunning quality of insight. She was never surprised by anything that the queen had to say and showed intense, unwavering loyalty. It was nice to have a friend once more.

Luned was just about to open the door when Merlin came crashing through, straight into the maid's arms. They regarded each other with alarm and after a certain amount of bobbing, apologising and awkward laughing, all of which Gwen found rather amusing, Merlin finally made his way towards the queen.

"Arthur has sent me to make sure that you're safe," he explained. "Barathon has escaped." Both women considered Merlin with deep concern.

"What of the girl?" Gwen asked. She watched as the young man glanced at Luned almost guiltily before replying.

"She's gone too."

"How?" Luned queried. "Guards were posted outside her rooms, night and day."

"They were found dead this morning, after Barathon disappeared." Gwen shook her head.

"How terrible," she said quietly, looking back to the courtyard as Merlin left. She could now see her husband striding through the crowd that had gathered, shouting orders to his men as hurried back up the steps and into the castle.

XXX

Arthur threw open the doors to the council chambers, not blinking an eye as they bounced back violently against the wall. Merlin followed closely at his heel.

"I want every house in Camelot searched," ordered the king as he reached the centre of the room.

"My lord," Mordred objected, "Barathon is a powerful sorcerer. He could easily change both his own appearance and that of the girl."

Sir Elyan added, "He may not even be in Camelot any more. The guards had not checked on Barathon in hours and Gaius said that the men outside Kiana's room had been dead a good while when Sir Percival found them this morning."

The king gritted his teeth and shook his head. "I want the prison guards who were on duty last night brought to me-"

"Arthur-" Elyan protested.

"No. They are responsible for this." Arthur turned to face the throne. The hall fell silent and Mordred and Elyan looked to each other. All were aware of the king's temper and his eagerness to seek retribution. Sir Elyan stepped forward.

"Could they have stopped him?" asked the king's brother-in-law. Arthur turned to face him. Merlin could see that his face had softened. There was a certain way that Elyan talked that made it difficult to refuse him and harder still to doubt his reasoning. Arthur sighed and hung his head, using one hand to wipe his eyes.

"You are right, Elyan."

"Should we still search the city?" Mordred asked.

"There is little hope for the poor girl now," Arthur said, "but we must still try." The youngest knight nodded his understanding and together he and Sir Leon exited the hall, along with several stray noblemen.

Soon only Arthur, Merlin and Elyan remained.

"You believe the girl to be abducted sire?"

"What other explanation is there?" Arthur told his knight. Merlin looked to his feet. He hated saying nothing.

"But then why come willingly to Camelot and then escape after two nights?" Elyan questioned. "It makes no sense."

"When does anything in Camelot make sense?"

Oh Arthur, Merlin thought to himself. If only you knew.

XXX

Merlin, Gaius and Iellwen sat pensive at the table. All three looked at the compass.

"What are you going to do with it?" Gaius asked, picking it up gingerly to examine it. Merlin glanced at Iellwen before speaking.

"It would lead us straight to the staff." He looked directly at the priestess this time, hoping to find the answer waiting in her eyes. She looked emotionlessly back. He hated it when she did that. "We could possess the Staff of Mourie."

"But at what cost?" Merlin could not answer his guardian. The three sat in silence again.

Merlin watched Gaius turn the compass in his hands.

"We could protect the kingdom," he said quietly.

"Or destroy it." The men looked to Iellwen. It was the first time she had spoken since Merlin had left her with the queen and her voice was slightly hoarse with disuse. He studied her face carefully but she kept her eyes fixed firmly on the table. As he began to frown she turned her gaze from her hands where they lay clasped on the table. "The Staff of Mourie is too powerful for either of us."

"But we could use it for good," Merlin protested.

"Suppose it falls into the wrong hands. You cannot guard it night and day for the rest of your life, Merlin," said Gaius. He placed the compass back on the table.

"So we destroy it."

"No," Iellwen said with a shake of her head, "let me return it to my mother. She will know what to do with it."

"We could keep it here? I could hide it," Merlin suggested. The elven priestess raised an eyebrow. She stood and dusted down her tatty emerald dress.

"The temptation would be too great, and you don't exactly have the best track record with temptation."

Iellwen made her way across the room and set about washing her hands in a small basin. He wished that he had a legitimate argument to make, but he knew that she was right. No one, no matter their intentions, could wield the staff safely. Merlin sighed deeply. As he returned his gaze to the table, he caught Gaius' eye and quickly wished that he hadn't. The physician raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips in a poorly disguised smile. Merlin turned a deep shade of red and coughed uncomfortably.

"Oh, and Gaius, before I forget," Iellwen said as she dried her hands, "the Queen asked for you to pay her a visit." Gaius tore his gaze from Merlin reluctantly.

"Might I ask why?"

"Of course."

After several seconds of expectant silence, Gaius continued. "Why?"

"It is not my place to say." The physician regarded Iellwen with slight bafflement before spurning himself into action.

"Then I shall go to her immediately." He collected his medicine bag from the cupboard and glancing at Merlin with the sternest look he could muster, he left the room.

Merlin turned his attention to Iellwen.

"Is she alright?" The priestess frowned at him questioningly. "The Queen?"

"Oh. Well, Gaius shall be the judge of that."

"What do you mean?"

"He's the Court Physician. It's his job." Iellwen shook her head. "Honestly, Merlin, it's as if your mind is elsewhere."


	16. Diverting Arthur

Chapter 16 – Diverting Arthur

One more night, just one more night. Gwaine tossed and turned in his bed. This was his last night. His last night. Gwaine sat bolt upright in bed. He couldn't take it anymore. He'd been wrestling with his thoughts ever since his head had hit the pillow. He threw on a jacket and boots and decided on a walk to clear his head.

It was the night before his wedding. Or was it the morning?

Any other man would be happy. Well, not a man with _his_ betrothed. What was he thinking? Why did he agree to marry… her. It was for Arthur. He knew that. He would do anything for his king and for Camelot but perhaps he had taken it too far this time. He knew Arthur had tried to get him out of it several times over the past fortnight to no avail.

Gwaine reached a window and stood pensive for a moment. It was dawn. The sun was not yet visible but the sky had a calm glow to it. The tranquillity of the early morning slowed Gwaine's hammering heart to a reasonable rate and he took a few deep breaths. For Arthur, and for Camelot, Gwaine thought to himself. For Arthur and for Camelot, for Arthur and for Camelot, for Arthur and for-

"Gwaine?" The knight shook himself from his self-induced trance. Merlin stood a few feet away, a basket of fresh firewood cradled in his arms.

"Merlin."

"Are you alright?" the young manservant asked gently.

Gwaine forced a smile and shrugged the question off. "Wedding jitters," he explained nonchalantly. Merlin's forehead creased into a sympathetic frown. "Wouldn't be a proper groom without them."

Merlin nodded. Come on Merlin, Gwaine thought. Any other time you would be yacking away and I wouldn't be able to stop you. Make a joke. Make a comment. Anything. Please? The manservant shifted uncomfortably and Gwaine's heart skipped a beat.

"I should be getting on," Merlin said unsurely. "Arthur will kill me if he wakes up to a cold room. That would be a bad start to your wedding day…"

The two men looked at each other in silence.

Merlin started suddenly and Gwaine jumped slightly.

"I should go."

"Yes," Gwaine replied quickly, "I'll see you at the ceremony."

"Of course."

"It'll be the event of the season, I promise."

Merlin's mouth twitched up into a small smile and he promptly turned from their awkward babble, heading off the to the king's chambers. Gwaine looked back to the window before him. This was going to be the longest day of his life.

XXX

Merlin stoked the fire. He was sitting far too close but his thoughts were not on his slowly singeing eyebrows but on Gwaine and his bride-to-be. He shuddered. He had work to do.

He had forgotten what it was to work alone, having had Iellwen by his side for near to six months, but the elven priestess had travelled home to deliver the compass to her mother and he felt her absence more strongly now than he had done at Samhain. He longed for the smell of the sea that she always seems to bring with her from her homeland. He regarded the state of the fireplace grate with a sigh. She was far better at cleaning than he was. Probably because she seemed to genuinely care whether or not the king and queen's chambers were tidy. Wiping the back of his forehead, Merlin tossed the last of the wood into the fire and stood up. He dressed Arthur and served him his breakfast in solemn silence and when his master left to ensure that all was ready for Gwaine's wedding, Merlin busied himself with preparing the queen's ceremonial cloak.

He had only just finished repairing the clasp when he heard Guinevere calling his name. Carefully he poked his head between the curtains.

"My lady?" She sat on the edge of the bed with her back to him. As he made his way around the bed he could see that she was shaking so violently that she almost seemed to be convulsing. "Gwen?"

"I need Gaius," she said weakly. Merlin stopped. He could see now why she was trembling. Her nightdress was soaked in vivid red blood and the bed behind her was saturated too. She was incredibly pale and her knuckles were as white as bone as she clutched the edge of the bed desperately.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, kneeling on the floor before her and quickly surveying her body for the wound. He placed his hand over hers. She was hot and clammy and she looked as if she were about to be sick. The queen pursed her lips and closed her eyes. "Gwen, what happened?" With a small shake of her head she made a soft groaning noise and bent slightly as if she were in pain. With his heart in his mouth, Merlin stood slowly, not taking his eyes off Gwen. He had accompanied Arthur into battle numerous times and yet he'd never seen so much blood come from one living person before. He whispered, more to himself than to Gwen, "I don't understand."

"I can handle this." Merlin dragged his gaze from the queen to the woman stood at the break in the curtain. Removing her riding cloak, Iellwen moved past Merlin to crouch before the queen. He caught of the scent of saltwater from the hem of her cloak as she cast it over the wardrobe door.

"You're not supposed to be back until Thursday."

The priestess ignored his comment. "Find Gaius. Bring him here."

"What's wrong with her?" Merlin asked as Iellwen held the back of her hand to the queen's forehead. The cold of her maid's hand on her skin appeared to raise Gwen's level of consciousness.

"I need to prepare for the wedding." She attempted to stand, but Iellwen was faster. She held her mistress down by her shoulders.

"My lady, you have lost a lot of blood," she said gently, "if you stand you will faint."

"But-"

Iellwen shook her head. "There is nothing that we can do for the child now, but there is plenty that we can do for you."

Merlin looked to and from the two women in shock. Iellwen looked to the doorway suddenly.

"Keep him out." Merlin was about to ask her what she was talking about and what the hell was going on when Arthur burst through the doors.

"The wedding is in less than an hour and the hall still looks like the entire army uses it as a training ground!" the king complained. Not entirely sure of how he managed to move, Merlin near dove through the curtains and pulled them violently behind him. Arthur regarded him with bemusement. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

"Is that Luned? Isn't she supposed to be tending to her mother?"

"Nope."

Arthur frowned. "No, that isn't Luned or no, she isn't supposed to be with her mother?"

"Just… nope." They looked at each other blankly for a moment. Merlin smiled nervously.

"Shouldn't you be helping prepare?"

"Mm-mm," Merlin replied with a violent shake of the head.

"What's going on? Why is Guinevere not ready?"

"She's still asleep."

"She was sitting up."

"Yes. No, she's not asleep," Merlin blathered.

" _Merlin_ ," Arthur said threateningly.

"She, um…" Merlin glanced behind him and then back to Arthur. He considered his options quickly and decided on the only course of action that he knew would work.

He lent in and in said quietly and pointedly, "She's having women's problems." Arthur coughed awkwardly and blushed.

"Right, well," the king muttered, puffing out his chest out importantly, "if you need anything I'll be… elsewhere."

"Of course, sire." Merlin bowed his head in an odd, jerky movement and Arthur nodded in return before turning on his heels and marching out of the room. Merlin sighed deeply in relief and ducked back behind the curtain.

Iellwen had successfully coaxed the queen back into bed and she now stood contemplatively at her side. Without moving her gaze from Gwen she addressed him.

"How many times do you have to be told?" she muttered, "Fetch Gaius."


	17. Gwaine Takes a Wife

Chapter 17 – Gwaine Takes a Wife

King Arthur stood at the front of the hall and watched as people arrived. His crown was itchy but he resisted the temptation to scratch. He had years of practice. Gwaine stood greeting at the door. They had tried to keep the wedding as quiet as possible and invited only the essential people, but word always spread quickly around the court and Arthur could already see at least six members of the nobility who weren't invited.

They had, however, managed to keep the hag – Ragnelle – fairly well hidden. Arthur shuddered. Poor Gwaine. He had tried his best to free his knight from his oath but the lady had resisted his offers of gold and land and had insisted that his debt would only be paid by Gwaine's hand in marriage. He didn't understand it. Meaning no offense to the knight, his hand in marriage was not worth the lands of Cantella. But still she had said no.

Trumpets sounded and the terrified look on Gwaine's face made Arthur's heart leap. The king made his way to the doors as Gwaine approached. The noblemen took their places, forming a semicircle on either side of the hall. The hag – Ragnelle – hobbled through the open doorway and Arthur tried desperately to ignore the collective gasp of his men as he offered her his arm and began to walk her towards where Gwaine stood shaking by the officiant.

If Arthur felt that the hand-fasting passed in a messy blur, he could hardly imagine what it must have felt like for Gwaine. The love-sick look in Ragnelle's eyes made his stomach churn and he regretted the decision to have eggs and mushrooms for breakfast. When the time came to seal the union, the most contact Gwaine could manage was to kiss his bride's hand and bow stiffly.

There was no feast afterwards, no celebration. The hag was escorted back to her own chambers for the last time and Gwaine was taken off hunting by his fellow knights. The feeling of guilt overwhelming him, Arthur did not accompany them and he headed back to his own chambers, his heart heavy and his breakfast dangerously close to making a reappearance.

Just as he turned the corner, Merlin emerged from the king's chambers. Spotting Arthur, the manservant quickly shut the door.

"My lord, it's probably best-" he started.

"No. I'm sorry, but she is my wife," Arthur said, moving Merlin roughly out of the way, "I should be able to – why is Gaius here?" The king stopped dead in his tracks and looked in horror at the blood-stained water that the physician was washing his hands in. Luned glared at Merlin. Arthur hardly noticed as he focused on the basket full of bloody laundry that she was trying hide by standing in front of. He pointed at it and looked directly at Gaius. "What's going on?"

"Sire, your wife needs rest. If you accompany me to my chambers we can discuss it at length." Gaius replied. Arthur looked at the three solemn faces before him.

"What's happened?" he whispered. Merlin stepped forward.

"Arthur-" The king recoiled at the gentle voice of his friend.

"I need to know." His voice caught in his throat and he continued slowly. "I am not going anywhere until I know." The three servants looked to and from each other and as if silently agreeing on a course of action, they moved in unison. Merlin guided the king to a seat at the table, Gaius took his place opposite and Luned removed the water basin.

"The Queen was with child," Gaius started gently.

"Was?"

"The pregnancy did not last."

"And Guinevere?"

"She should be confined to bed rest for the next week, but physically she is coping well."

Arthur swallowed. He was trying his best to process the information without bursting into tears. What was happening? Why was it happening? What did it mean? What would happen next? He had so many thoughts running through his mind that he couldn't separate them, let alone make sense of them. As he remained silent he was vaguely aware of Gaius leaving and of Merlin and Luned talking in hushed voices on the other side of the room. After what felt like an eternity he looked up.

"We waited so long." Merlin moved forward and stood opposite the king.

"I know."

"And now-" He looked into his manservant's eyes. Seeing nothing but sadness there he turned to Luned and directed his question at her. "How long – how far-"

"Four or five months. It is not always clear," the maid answered, not moving from where she stood by the curtain. Arthur bit his lip for a few seconds until he regained control of himself.

"And – do you know what – what it – whether it was a boy or a girl?"

"It was a little girl." By now Arthur was shaking.

His voice no louder than a pained whisper, he repeated Luned's words. "A girl." He could feel the hot tears streaming down his face but he didn't care. Merlin's eyes glistened and, looking up desperately, he turned away from his king to hide his face. Luned didn't flinch.

"Luned?" A weak call came from behind the curtain. The maid gave a small nod to the king before going to tend on her queen. Merlin turned back to Arthur. It was clear that he had been crying and had unsuccessfully tried to wipe his face clean of the evidence.

"Arthur-"

"I know."

"No. No, I have to say it," Merlin insisted. "I'm so sorry."

"Thank you."

Merlin sniffed loudly. "Your next child will be all the more precious because of this."

"What if this is it?" Arthur said bluntly, "We've been waiting for three years. What if this is all we get?"

"No, this is just the beginning," Merlin countered desperately.

"How can you know that?"

Before Merlin could reply, Luned reappeared.

"My lord, the Queen wishes to speak with you."

XXX

Merlin and Iellwen watched as the king disappeared behind the curtain. They walked in silence through the castle and somehow found themselves on the battlements. The two servants stood for a moment, enjoying the gentle breeze, and watched as Sir Gwaine's hunting party left through the north gate.

"Why did you come back?" Merlin asked.

"A vision," replied Iellwen simply.

"How can you be so calm?"

Iellwen regarded him with what appeared to be sadness.

"Pregnancy loss is more common than you would think."

"It isn't fair. They deserve to be happy."

"Tragedy does not only strike those deserving of it, Merlin. We are all of us vulnerable."

"I know, I just – I can't imagine what they must be going through," Merlin said quietly, his voice dangerously close to breaking. Iellwen reached out and took Merlin's hands in hers. "What do we do?"

"We support them in whatever way they need us to."  
"But-"

"That is all we can do, Merlin. There is no way to make this better or easier, it can only be accepted. Time will do the rest." The young warlock sighed deeply and nodded his agreement.

Iellwen raised her hand and brushed Merlin's hair back out of his eyes. She frowned.

"What?" Merlin said with a small laugh.

"You need a haircut," she replied sternly.

"You don't think that I'd look good with long hair?"

Iellwen raised an eyebrow at him. "No."

"Alright then."

XXX

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted to be sure. I had to be sure," Gwen whispered. "We've waited so long."

Arthur sat in the bed beside his wife, cradling her gently. She had her head laid on his chest and her eyes closed as she let the steady beat of her husband's heart calm her.

"It will be alright," Arthur told her, "eventually." Guinevere paused before speaking.

"I want to talk about something else."

"Are you sure?"

"Very sure."

Arthur remained in silent thought and Gwen listened to the firm lub-dub of his heart. She needed time to rest. Her body needed to recover before her mind could begin to heal. One step at a time. She just wanted – needed – to forget. Not for forever, just for now. For a few precious moments Gwen wanted everything to go back to the way it was before. She didn't want to feel like the world was crumbling around her. Arthur was her rock. No matter the situation Arthur always came through. She didn't doubt that he would this time too. She felt him take a deep breath.

"You missed the wedding," he said dryly.

Gwen groaned. "I completely forgot. Poor Gwaine."

"Mm," Arthur agreed.

"He'll be alright, won't he?"

"He'll always have his tavern girls." Arthur feigned being winded as Gwen gave her husband a soft whack on the chest and chided him sternly.

"Arthur."

XXX

Gwaine tapped his feel nervously against the cold stone floor and tried to focus on steadying his breathing. The sun had set towards the end of the hunting trip and reluctantly the knights had travelled home. Percival, Elyan and Leon had tried their best to keep the mood light and the conversation away from the marriage and succeeded for the most part. Poor Mordred, the youngest of the knights, had remained quiet for almost the whole trip, only smiling queasily when Gwaine had caught his eye. His inexperience had been the source of most of Gwaine's amusement and a great number of jokes were made at young Mordred's expense. Camelot had seemed so distant for those few hours. Now as he stood watching Merlin light the candles in the wall brackets he tried to imagine himself back in the woods.

So deep in thought was he that he didn't register that Merlin was speaking to him.

"Gwaine?"

"Sorry. Away with the fairies."

The manservant forced a small smile. "I only asked if there was anything else you needed."

"No, thank you, Merlin," he said graciously. Merlin nodded.

"Well," he said, clasping his hands together, "good luck." Gwaine didn't reply and after pausing for a moment, Merlin left the room.

He couldn't have said how long he was standing motionless in the middle of the room, but it wasn't long enough. His… wife was led in by a host of young maids who quickly made their exit and left the couple alone. He had avoided looking Ragnelle in the eye for the whole day and when he did so he did not find the smugness and victory that he had expected to. Instead he was met by a look of intense sadness. Gwaine was hit by a sudden feeling of guilt. He could only imagine how she had been treated since arriving in Camelot. The servants gossiped in the halls and the noblemen laughed and stared. He was not free of guilt either. He too had treated her with as little respect as possible.

"Will you not kiss me as your wife, my lord?" Gwaine nodded slowly and crossed the room from the window to where she was standing. One kiss, just one kiss. That was all he had to do. For now.

With a deep breath he bent and pressed his lips firmly to her. He only lasted a few seconds before he pulled back. He didn't remember at what point he had closed his eyes, but he opened them slowly and his heart almost stopped at what he saw.

He blinked ferociously in disbelief. Stood in front of him was no longer the ugly hag, twisted and sickly. Instead he saw a woman as beautiful as the hag was ugly. She was small and elegant. Her face was full and her sparkling eyes were a cool grey colour. A large birthmark spread from the corner of her cheek bone to her jaw and the side of her neck. Dirty blonde hair tumbled in gentle waves down to her waist.

"I don't – I don't understand," Gwaine stammered. Could this day get anymore bizarre? "What sorcery is this?"

"It is a curse," Ragnelle said softly and sadly. Her voice was no longer like gravel on cold stone flooring. She spoke with a warm West Country lilt and the sound was music to Gwaine's ears. He couldn't describe the feeling but he couldn't swallow properly and he only just managed to speak audibly.

"A curse?"

"It is a long and twisting tale of which you need not know as it does not pertain to you. Only know that I never did harm to any man. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Can it be broken?"

"Yes, but I don't know how. I know only that you now must make a choice." Lady Ragnelle stepped out of her husband's embrace and moved a few paces back. He watched her move in wonder, half expecting to wake and find her a hag once more. She continued, "You must decide which you would rather have me: beautiful only at night when we are alone or beautiful only during the day when others may see me."

Gwaine blinked at her.

"I must choose?" he asked. She nodded.

"The curse demands it."

He considered the choices. He didn't know what to do. There was no clear answer.

"I don't know."

"The decision must be made."

Gwaine paused. "Then let it be yours."

"My lord?" Ragnelle questioned with a small frown.

"Either way you will be the one to suffer most. I do not care for my own comfort. The decision is yours to make and I will honour it as your husband." Tears streamed down Ragnelle's cheeks. "Have I said something wrong, my lady?" She shook her head.

"No, my lord," she whispered, "You have granted me sovereynté, and by doing so you have lifted the curse. I will remain in my own image under both sun and stars."

* * *

 _Sarah: Thank you to those of you who PM'd me to tell me I had uploaded chapter 16 twice by accident! Lesson learned - never upload when night shifting. And thank you all for your kind messages and reviews, the feedback is much appreciated! Chapter 18 is on it's way..._


	18. Sigurd Lionheart

Chapter 18 – Sigurd Lionheart

The Camelot guard galloped across the drawbridge and clattered loudly into the courtyard. The autumn leaves were drawn up into their slip stream, creating a frenzy of blazing colour against the bleak grey of the cobblestone. They took no heed of the cries of annoyance from the townsmen they almost bowled over and headed straight for the castle steps. A dark-haired figure at the forefront of the party had hardly halted his horse before he launched himself from his saddle and ran at full pelt up the steps and into the castle. He dodged in and out of servants and courtiers as he race down the corridor and threw open the doors of the council chambers.

Mordred ignored the looks of surprise on the faces of his audience. Gwaine, Leon and Percival, who had obviously been deep in conversion with the king, turned towards the door and Merlin and Luned gave each other surreptitious glances. Arthur walked meet Mordred half way. The two men stopped when they were only a few metres apart. The young knight was breathing heavily and his chainmail rose and fell in violent shudders as he tried to recover breath enough to address the king.

"My lord," he began with difficulty. He let slip a few more pants before he continued. "We found the boy. We tracked the party as far as the gates of the City of Wystan, on the border of Mercia."

"The prison settlement?" Arthur queried, surprise clear on his face. Mordred nodded in confirmation as he continued to attempt to control his breathing. He heard footsteps behind him as the rest of the Camelot guard joined him and Sir Elyan spoke out from their company.

"The entrance to Wystan was heavily guarded." He too was slightly breathless but his experience meant that he was not as easily overcome with excitement as Mordred was. "It is likely that they are holding the merchant's son there permanently."

"How well armed are they?"

"Very. It would take more than the army of Camelot to break through their ranks."

Sir Leon spoke up. "If we mounted an open attack on Wystan they would surely kill the boy, not to mention that marching the army over the Mercian border would be an act of war."

"He's worth more to them alive," Elyan disagreed. "Lord Eadric would pay a great deal to have his son returned safely to him." Arthur murmured his agreement.

"But we're running out of time," the king said, "Gundahard requires payment for young Sigurd by daybreak tomorrow."

"Sire, what about a more covert tactic?" Mordred suggested. Attention turned to the young knight and from between Merlin and Gwen a short, soft wail emanated from the month-old Florence who was bundled in Ragnelle's arms. Her mother hushed her gently.

"What are you proposing, Mordred?" Arthur asked.

Shortly after midday, the company set out. Camelot's best knights were joined by Merlin and Iellwen who had their own part to play in Mordred's well-received plan. They travelled as far as the edge of the Repton plains which marked the Mercian border. Arthur and the knights remained behind and Merlin, Iellwen and Gwaine continued on a further mile towards the gates of Wystan. They reached the city wall unimpeded and Iellwen swiftly dismounted and took the wicker basket she had attached to the back of her saddle. The two men also dismounted and Merlin tethered their horses to a low hanging branch. Gwaine took the reins of Iellwen's horse as she threw her shawl over her head and made it into a hood.

"They're keeping Sigurd in the tower on the left," the knight told her. "Gundahard's men are mercenaries; they're easily bought and easily seduced. We will meet you back here." Iellwen nodded her understanding and adjusted her thin and tattered leather overcoat. She left without a word and Merlin watched as she disappeared around the corner of the stone wall.

"So…"

"So?" Merlin replied.

"Any updates?" Gwaine pressed. Merlin gave the knight an odd, confused shrug and shook his head. "About Luned."

"Honestly, first Arthur, now you."

"Arthur knows?"

"What's to know?!" Merlin cried in exasperation. The knight simply raised his hands in surrender and fell silent.

The young warlock considered his friend carefully. What happened in the vault – he had to know. He was by no means clueless when it came to women – he had done his fair share of courting – but Iellwen was nothing like any woman he had ever met. Gwaine, on the other hand, had… _met_ dozens. Surely Merlin could learn something from him? He was burning to tell someone what had happened. Lancelot had really been the only person he could share all of these things with and since his death Merlin hadn't reached out to anyone else. He needed a friend right now. He fingered the reigns of his horse and glanced at Gwaine who was studying the brickwork of the wall intently.

"OK, if I told you something, do you promise it won't go any further?" Merlin speculated moving to stand closer to Gwaine. The knight spread his arms widely and took a swaggering step forwards.

"Of course," he said. "Your secret is safe with me."

"We had a…" Merlin struggled to find the word and Gwaine raised an eyebrow, "moment."

"What kind of moment?"

"It's hard to explain." The warlock sighed. "We were close, I mean, pressed-" He demonstrated with his hands. "All the blood was going to… all the wrong places and I really thought that something was going to happen."

"And then?" Gwaine said slowly and purposefully. For some odd reason Merlin found himself grinning. He let out a short, nervous laugh.

"And then nothing. The moment was over," Merlin replied. He edged closer to his friend who was watching him with a smirk on his face, "What do you think it means?"

Gwaine laughed loudly. "It means you missed a golden opportunity."

Merlin opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by the loud clatter of old bells. They both turned to look up at city wall. Shouts and cries echoed through the air.

"Was that part of the plan?" Merlin asked.

"Nope."

XXX

Iellwen kept her head down as she walked calmly through the marketplace. Sigurd's tiny hand gripped hers tightly and he kept so close to her that he was continuously walking into the back of her leg. As predicted, the men guarding the four year old were unskilled and fairly stupid. They were no match for the elf's magic. They would likely wake in a couple of hours with terrible headaches and a gap in their memories. She glanced to the gate. Four or five guards were searching each person leaving or entering the city. Iellwen had only managed to get past them the first time due to a fight miraculously, or not, breaking out between two nearby townsmen. The minds of ordinary men were so frail – so easily manipulated.

She stopped by a stall as two heavily armed men marched purposefully past. Sigurd wrapped his free arm around her leg. The poor boy hadn't said a word since they had met. The pure terror she had seen in his eyes – she had never seen the likes of it before. As the only child of the wealthiest man in all the kingdoms of Albion it was probably a feeling he would have to get used to. She released his hand and turned towards him. She gripped him beneath his arms and lifted him up, balancing him gently on her hips. She pulled his hood further over his face. Iellwen looked to the gate again. The guards were busy rummaging through the sacks on a large wagon leaving the city. It was now or never. She slipped past them with ease and had just turned past the stone wall when one of the guards called after her.

"Oi, you!"

The priestess froze and closed her eyes. She turned to face the man approaching her and wrapped her arms more tightly around Sigurd.

"Where are you off to in such a hurry?" the man asked gruffly.

"My husband will be home from work soon. I need to make him supper." The guard snorted and stopped a mere metre away from them. He tugged free the basket she held in the crook of her arm and began searching through the contents: a leg of ham, potatoes, carrots and cabbage. Sigurd hid his face in Iellwen's shoulder as the guard pulled back the little boy's hood. He eyed her up and deciding that she was not as interesting as he had first thought he handed the basket back to her.

"Go," he said. "Next time you might not be so lucky."

After one final glance he turned on his heel and made his way back to the gates of Wystan. Iellwen sighed in relief and swiftly set off towards where Merlin and Gwaine stood waiting. She had barely taken ten steps when the bells rang out. She didn't wait to see why. Dropping the basket and moving closer to the wall, Iellwen set off at a steady jog. Sigurd whimpered slightly and she muttered all the comforting words she could think of to him as she listened out for approaching footsteps or voices.

The meeting point came up sooner than she expected and she saw relief wash over the two men's faces as they approached her. Merlin steadied her horse and Gwaine took Sigurd and passed him to back her once she was seated.

"Are those bells for you?" Gwaine asked.

"I would have thought so," she answered sitting the boy in front of her in the saddle. "They must have found the guards." Merlin gave her an exasperated look that she tried her best to ignore.

"Found the guards? What did you do to them?" he asked.

Their conversation was interrupted suddenly by the sound of horses and men approaching. Merlin and Gwaine quickly mounted and the three set off, urging their horses into a gallop. None of them need to look back to know that the Wystan men were quickly catching up. They dodged in and out of the trees using any moves they could think to put distance between them and the guards following them. Iellwen heard the crashing of branches and the distant thuds of men falling from their horses as Merlin no doubt used magic to slow them down.

By the time they had reached the Repton plains again only a dozen men had managed to remain in their saddles and Merlin, Gwaine and Iellwen had no trees to hide behind now. They thundered across the dusty earth and it billowed up behind them. Iellwen felt an arrow whistle past her ear and she jumped, causing her horse to swerve nervously in reaction. She saw the bolt bounce off the golden dragon on the shield of one of the group of men who had emerged from the tree line ahead and were now riding directly towards her. Arthur lowered his shield after the impact and called his men to charge. They went from a steady canter to a gallop on his command and within seconds Merlin, Gwaine and Iellwen had passed them and headed straight for the forest ahead.

The sound of fighting dulled as soon as they were under the cover of the trees and they slowed and drew their horses to a halt behind a steep bank. Merlin jumped down from his horse and helped to lift Sigurd to the ground. Iellwen joined him and crouched so that she was eye level with the boy. His face was covered in dust from the plains so the whites of his eyes stood out boldly amongst his features. Tear tracks marked where the wind had blown them in various directions until they made a web of dried salty water.

"Are you alright?" Iellwen asked him. The child's lower lip trembled and he shakily nodded his head. He whimpered and the elven priestess simply watched him curiously. The fear of a child was so changeable. Were she to produce a toy at this point, his distress would be gone and he would want nothing more than to play. Merlin bent beside her and picked Sigurd up before she could think of suitable way to calm him and cradled the small boy against his chest. Merlin paced back and forth as Sigurd sobbed into the young warlock's scarf.

Iellwen stood to observe them both with interest, but her thoughts were interrupted by Gwaine.

"What happened?" he asked her. She drew her eyes from Merlin.

"The guards were not as easily persuaded by money and women as you believed," she replied, "so I had to employ… a different technique." Gwaine laughed softly and shook his head.

"Well, you did a good job."

"Thank you."

"I've got to be honest," he continued, stopping her gaze from drifting away from him, "I didn't think you could do it. You always seem so… demure at court. I mean no disrespect."

"I'm glad I have exceeded your expectations of women," she answered him dryly. He smiled at her good-humouredly and looked as if he were about to turn away when he spun back to face her.

"Oh and by the way, your secret is safe with me."

Iellwen frowned questioningly. "What secret?" Gwaine jerked his head sideways to where Merlin stood muttering into Sigurd's ear and stroking his hair.

"Your feelings for him."

"What?" she asked flatly. Gwaine began to back away from her, making his way towards the sound of approaching horses.

"I won't tell a soul," he added with a smirk.

Iellwen scowled fiercely at him. "I do _not_ have feelings for Merlin," she countered derisively. He shrugged slightly in response.

" _I_ know that that's a lie. But do _you_?"

Before Iellwen could respond, the knights of Camelot thundered around the mud bank. A couple of them, including the king, dismounted whilst the others hung back, already prepared to make a swift departure. Arthur approached where Gwaine now stood with Merlin. The king's servant positioned himself so that Sigurd's face was visible. Iellwen moved to hold her horse's reins and watched the interaction.

"My name is Arthur," the king began slowly, "What's yours?" The little boy considered him for a moment with eyes that were now tired but dry. It seemed Merlin was a natural.

"Sigurd," he replied shyly.

"Well, Sigurd, you have been very brave."

"Like a lion," Merlin added. He pushed back the boy's dirty blonde hair as the child smiled widely and with an open mouth looked to and from the servant and the king.

"Yes," Arthur agreed. "Sigurd the Lionhearted – Sigurd Lionheart." Arthur removed his dagger from his belt and tapped it gently on both of the child's shoulders. A high-pitched giggle emanated from the boy and he hid his face shyly in Merlin's scarf.

Gwaine interrupted. "Sire, we're starting to lose the light. We need to return to Camelot before nightfall." Arthur nodded his agreement.

"We leave immediately."


	19. Priestess Born

Chapter 19 – Priestess-born

The journey took a little longer than they expected. They kept off the main road to avoid being followed but the terrain in the forest was less than suitable for riding through and after about an hour they all dismounted to distribute their weight more evenly and confuse their tracks. They trudged in silence. Every now and again, one of them would trip over a loose branch or on the uneven forest floor. Sigurd slept soundly in Arthur's arms. The poor boy must be exhausted, thought Merlin. Lord Eadric had offered a great price for the safe return of his son. Arthur was by no means the only person to receive the offer and undoubtedly there were other forces now rallying at the gates of Wystan. Merlin smirked to himself. But none of them had an elf and a warlock on their side, even if Arthur didn't realise it.

Merlin was so deep in thought that he didn't realise that Arthur had silently called the party to a halt in a clearing and he very nearly walked into the back of the king's raised hand. He nodded to his knights who slowly and quietly drew their swords as he passed Sigurd to Merlin. A great chorus of shouts erupted from the trees surrounding them as Gundahard's men leapt from the foliage and charged at them. The horses scattered in terror, wrenching free their reins and galloping off past the advancing men. Fighting broke out all around them, but Merlin could do little to help with Sigurd in his hands and the boy's arms wrapped so tightly around his neck he was starting to struggle to breathe. Iellwen stood beside them, glaring down all potential opponents and surprisingly none of Gundahard's men came at them. He really needed to ask how she did that. For the sake of all men, he hoped that she needed magic at least.

A thunderous shout echoed through the trees and the fighting stopped. Merlin looked around to see where it had come from and needed to look no further than the ogre of a man pacing purposefully towards Arthur's company. He was at least three feet taller than Percival, if that was even humanly possible, and rather a lot rounder. With a shiny bald head and sausage-like fingers, he rather reminded Merlin of the half-giants in the stories his mother used to tell him.

"King Arthur," he boomed, "I did not expect to see you yourself here." Arthur didn't reply. "You know, no one has been broken out of my prison cells before. It makes me think that you have used rather underhand techniques. Magic, perhaps?"

"I would never use magic," Arthur replied coldly. By now Gundahard's men had surrounded them and stood around the borders of the clearing whilst Gundahard himself stood just inside their ranks, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. The giant laughed deeply.

"You have one of the Old Blood in your ranks."

Merlin's heart began hammering and he felt as if it might burst out of his chest. His grip on Sigurd tightened and he felt Iellwen tense beside him. The colour drained from his cheeks and he watched fearfully as Arthur straightened up.

"None of my men use magic."

Gundahard replied darkly, "I said nothing about men."

The knights of Camelot turned to look at Iellwen. The priestess's gaze was fixed firmly on the giant as she ignored the stunned silence around her. He laughed again.

"I must say, our conversation has amused me greatly. But now I grow weary." He turned away from Arthur, whose gaze was still fixed firmly on the elf, as he gave the order to his men, "Kill them all."

"No." Iellwen's voice rang clearly through the glade and Gundahard turned to face her. She walked past the king to stand at the front of their company. "Call off your men, return to your city, and I will ensure that you are not harmed." The giant almost doubled over in laughter.

"No sorceress could defeat my forces alone."

"I am no sorceress," Iellwen replied. She threw her scarf to the ground and removed the linen bonnet that she wore to hide the shape of her ears. Gundahard tried desperately to hide the fear in his eyes as she took another step towards him. "My name is Iellwen, heir to the kingdom of Emhain Abhlach. I am priestess-born, trained from birth by the elders of my tribe and sworn to the service of King Arthur by the Morrígan herself. If you want to take him, you'll have to take me first."

The giant's eyes narrowed and he repeated his order, "Kill them all."

It was obvious that his men didn't realise the danger because they charged without hesitation. They had hardly moved three steps forwards when they suddenly stopped, mid-run. As if frozen, they hung there, confusion evident on their faces. A silver energy seemed to seep from the priestess stood before them. In wonder, Merlin watched as Iellwen moved her hands, as if she were weaving the energy into a ring. As she worked the air around them seemed to soar towards her. The air became thinner and thinner. Sigurd's tiny body flopped and became heavier in his arms. Just as Merlin thought that they might all lose consciousness, Iellwen threw her arms out. The silver ring followed her direction and flew outwards. It reached Gundahard's men and they were knocked off their feet, flying backwards through the trees. Merlin couldn't see where they had fallen but he knew that they weren't coming back. He heard Gundahard fall with a loud crash against the trunk of a tree and after that a heavy silence fell in the glade.

Iellwen collapsed to her knees breathing heavily and shaking with exhaustion. Merlin practically threw Sigurd at Percival and ran forwards to support the young priestess as she slumped closer to the ground.

"Are you alright?" he asked, wrapping his arm around her torso to keep her upright. She gave a small nod in reply as she struggled for breath. Merlin looked up at Arthur. The king hadn't moved a muscle. His jaw was locked in anger. Merlin pleaded, "Please, Arthur."

"Arrest her."


	20. The Birth of Arthur

Chapter 20 – The Birth of Arthur

"Why did you do it?"

"Merlin, please."

"You could have denied it."

"Merlin-"

"No, Iellwen! Arthur is going to execute you."

Merlin glared angrily at his hands as they lay rested on his knees in front of him. The cold of the stone floor he was sat on and the iron bars of the cell beside him sent a shiver down his spine. He heard the girl sat on the other side of the bars sigh.

"No, he won't." Merlin turned to look at her. She still wore the leather and coarse fabrics she had worn to Wystan. The dirty material hung in several layers of uneven cut and her tunic was stained with what Merlin could only assume was a mixture of mud and sweat. Her unruly hair tumbled down her back and disappeared into the shadows of the cell. It was odd to see her without the cloth bonnet on her head. He traced the point of her ear with his eyes. It was something that you could easily miss if you only caught a glimpse of her. She regarded him with some kind of pity. He had to grit his teeth to stop himself from saying something he would regret and turned back to face the wall opposite him. "We were outnumbered and overpowered. We would not have left that clearing by any other means. Surely you know that?" She paused. "Arthur will not kill me."

"Oh, and I suppose you want me to stop him?" Merlin muttered sardonically.

"Are you going to let me die?"

He looked her in the eye. Her emerald irises glittered, even in the low light of the dungeon. He tilted his head slightly and raised an eyebrow. She gave a small smile. He picked at his fingernails absentmindedly.

"You know, when we first met you mentioned the Morrígan. You mentioned her again in the forest. Who is she?" he asked.

"It is the title that is given to the greatest seer in the tribe," Iellwen replied, "The Threefold Goddess speaks through her."

"Who is the Threefold Goddess?"

"She embodies the three aspects of womanhood: maiden, mother and crone. Some say that she also represents the past, present and future." Merlin nodded thoughtfully before replying.

"What if you were a maiden though? Then it would be present, future and future," he said."Or if you were an old woman, then it would be past, past and-"

"Merlin."

XXX

Merlin was lost. Anything he told Arthur about Iellwen was bound to make the king angrier. If he exposed the whole story revolving around Barathon he would be exposing his own involvement. No, that wasn't the answer. Why did this have to happen? OK, it wasn't all Iellwen's fault, circumstance had rather worked against them, but she was an excellent liar. And yet this time she hadn't lied. Why hadn't she just lied? Why not? She really could make his blood boil sometimes.

He stepped through the door to Gaius' chambers and saw the physician sitting at the table leafing through a crusty book that looked about ready to bite the dust. The young warlock sat down heavily opposite Gaius and sighed.

"What you reading?"

"The Secretions of Healing Wounds." Merlin pulled a disgusted face as Gaius removed his glasses and studied the young man's expression. Carefully, he spoke again. "How is she?"

"Calm. Patient. Irritating," Merlin muttered.

"Does she have a solution?" Gaius pressed. Merlin shook his head and looked down at his hands. He heard Gaius close the book and push it to one side.

"I don't see how I'm supposed to get her out of this. I mean, anything I say will just make things worse." Merlin looked up at the physician. There was an odd expression playing across his face. If Merlin didn't know any better, he would have said that it was guilt. "What?"

"Well, when I first met Iellwen, I found that there was something familiar about her," Gaius started. "I began to search through the history of the elves, but very little of what was recorded survived the Great Purge, so I moved on to our own court records." The physician stood as he spoke and moved to take a large volume from a stack that rested on a rickety chair. He flicked through it as he paced back to the table. "This is what I found."

He set the book in front of Merlin. It now lay open on an earmarked page, lined with a thick border and beautifully decorated with coloured ink.

"Arthur's birth record?" Merlin looked at Gaius questioningly and the physician nodded.

"Read the list of attendants."

Merlin turned back to the book. " _'Attendants: Gaius, Court Physician, Lady Gwyar of Lothian, Lady Anna of Orkney, Isabelle of Lyonesse.'_ I don't understand what I'm supposed to be seeing."

"Keep reading."

"' _Servants in attendance: Lotta, maid to Queen Igraine, Maki, maid to Lady Gwyar, Gwenan, maid to Lady Anna. Presiding midwife…'_ " Merlin flattened the page with his hand as he reread the name in front of him in shock. " _'Presiding midwife: Iellwen, priestess of Emhain Abhlach.'_ " He looked up at Gaius as the physician took his seat opposite.

"Obviously it was many years ago, but I do now remember her presence."

"Didn't you recognise her?" Merlin asked despairingly.

Gaius shook his head. "At the time she was completing her dedication to the Old Religion and was required to wear a veil in the presence of men. I never saw her face."

"So she was the midwife who delivered Arthur?"

"Yes," Gaius replied with a small nod.

"We have to tell him," Merlin said as he ran his finger over the elf's name. Gaius didn't reply, but he looked at the warlock almost in pity. Merlin ignored him. "We have nothing to lose."

XXX

Iellwen stood stoically in the centre of the hall. Merlin and Gaius stood to the side by the columns and opposite stood a small selection of knights. The king and queen stood at the front of the hall. Merlin watched as Guinevere muttered solemnly in her husband's ear. Arthur nodded once or twice but he didn't speak.

"Might I ask why you have summoned me, my lord," Iellwen said boldly. The king turned away from his wife. "My understanding was that I was to be executed without trial." Taking a few steps towards the priestess, Arthur spoke.

"You see before you all of the people who know of your deception," he said as he gestured widely, "Gaius claims that he has information that may alter your fate. Should he succeed, you may be spared the fires. If he does not, you will burn tomorrow at dawn."

All eyes were now on the court physician as he stepped forward to address the king.

"My lord, you will recall that before you were born Magic was freely practiced amongst the people of Camelot." Arthur nodded expressionlessly and so Gaius continued. "Many practitioners held titled positions at court and were well trusted."

"Yes, yes," Arthur said in irritation. Gaius opened the record book he had been holding and approached the king slowly as he spoke.

"Iellwen was one of these people." He handed Arthur the book and indicated to the priestess's name. As Arthur read the page a frown formed on his face. Gwen took the record from her husband's arms and looked up at Iellwen in disbelief.

"Surely there must be a mistake, Gaius. She cannot be much older than twenty years," the queen protested.

"How old are you?" Arthur asked Iellwen. Without batting an eyelid she answered him.

"One hundred and fifty-eight."

"How do I know that you are telling the truth?"

"You once had a birth mark on your right hip. It has since faded, I would have thought," she said. The frown did not move from Arthur's face, but something in his eyes softened.

"You delivered me," he said quietly. Iellwen gave him a small smile and shook her head.

"Your mother delivered you, Arthur," she corrected, "I only assisted her."

Arthur regarded the priestess before him with a kind of flat anger. "Why did she have to die?"

It almost seemed that the entire court held it's breath. Merlin knew the true answer to the king's question and he was sure that Iellwen probably knew too, but she would not say. It would do more damage than good for him to know the truth. His reaction to the truth last time was not exactly positive. She looked at the stone floor.

"Childbirth is not a sickness," she replied firmly. "It cannot be healed or fixed. Oftentimes it is what it is and no amount of medicine or Magic can change it's course."

"No one has ever told me how it happened," Arthur said.

"Are you sure you want to know?" Arthur nodded confirmation and so the priestess continued, "There were complications during the delivery that no one could have foreseen. You were not an easy child to bring to birth. Your mother sustained several injuries, most of which were internal and we could not properly treat." Iellwen fell quiet.

"But what killed her?"

"Blood loss," Iellwen answered plainly. "It is common enough and yet there is still no treatment for it."

Arthur stayed silent and Merlin watched as he processed everything that Iellwen had told him. A pin drop would have sounded like thunder in the silence and every breath he took felt ten times louder than it probably was. Arthur gripped the hilt of his sword and he lightly fingered it's steelwork as his eyes focused on the priestess in front of him.

"You were close to my mother," he started. Iellwen gave him a small nod. "And yet, my father still sentenced your entire race to death."

"I will admit," said Iellwen, "I did not care much for your father, nor was he particularly fond of me, but I loved your mother and I loved you too." Merlin had never seen Iellwen cry and it astonished him to see tears roll down her cheeks. The mud and grime from the forest and the cells was washed away with the salty water. The tracks that they left contrasted greatly with the thick layer of dirt smudged unevenly across her face. She looked Arthur dead in the eyes as she continued to speak. "It broke my heart to leave you so helpless and alone. I would have done anything for you, Arthur, and I still would. I would lay down my life if it meant that you could live a minute longer. I could never hurt you and I think that you know that, or I would be burning already."

Arthur considered her words and her emotions with a long wordless stare. The king took a small step towards the priestess and Leon shifted uncomfortably at Arthur's right, ready to move at a moment's notice.

"I believe you," he said gently.

"Sire, how do you-" Leon began in protest. Arthur interrupted him.

"Let me finish," he said firmly. He turned back to Iellwen. "I believe that you never meant any harm and that you were loyal to my parents, but that does not excuse your deceit or your use of Magic." Arthur glanced to Merlin and the young warlock's heart skipped a beat. "For this reason you will not be executed, but you will be exiled." Merlin attempted to leap forward but Gaius's firm grip stopped him from doing so. The scuffle caught of the attention of the court and Iellwen turned to him. Their eyes met and Merlin watched as the tears continued to run down the priestess's cheeks. His heart was hammering so hard and fast that it felt as if it were about burst out of his rib cage as he looked and from the king and the priestess. He so badly wanted to speak but he didn't know what to say or how to say it, and even if he did he knew that he wouldn't have found the strength to voice the words. Iellwen seemed to be struggling too. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could her expression changed completely. Her eyes shifted focus to something that he couldn't see and she developed a severe tremor in her left hand.

Without warning she dropped to the floor with a solid thud and began writhing in what appeared to be pain. Gaius moved past Merlin and swiftly knelt beside the priestess as the members of the court looked on in shock.

"What's wrong with her?" Arthur asked, stepping back to let Gwen pass and join Gaius on the floor.

"I believe she is having a vision," the physician replied, checking Iellwen's pulse as the queen placed her shawl beneath the priestess's head.

"What do we do?" Gwen asked, stroking Iellwen's hair. The elf continued to shudder violently. Blood dripped from the corner of her mouth and her lips began to turn blue. "Gaius, what's happening?"

"Cyanosis," he replied plainly, sitting back on his heels. "She is not breathing properly. There is nothing we can do but wait for it to pass." Gaius looked back at the young warlock as he watched helplessly. Merlin had never seen Iellwen have a true vision. He had seen her attempt to induce the sight, but this was quite different. In fact Merlin would have gone so far as to say that it was disturbing. Her eyes rolled back in their sockets and he had to look away from her face queasily. What seemed like an eternity passed before her movements began to slow to a gentle twitching and her once rigid limbs relaxed. Her arms flopped back to the floor and she slumped against the cold stone. Her lips began to pink up as her chest rose and fell steadily and Merlin began to breathe again too.

Gaius turned to him. "Merlin, take her back to my chambers. She needs rest and quiet."

"But she has been exiled," Percival said as the young manservant bent to pick her up.

"She will remain under my care until she is fit enough to travel," Gaius insisted, "Regardless, you may find that what she saw is of significance."


	21. Olea europaea

Chapter 21 – Olea europaea

Images swirled inside Iellwen's mind. They flowed and then shuddered, flowed and then shuddered. Knights and ladies turned through her vision, the vibrant colours of their dress drawing her attention from babble of voices that lay in thick layers over their dance. What was she supposed to be seeing? The faces of the dancers appear blurred and distorted as if she were seeing them through frosted glass. She could feel a sense of them but their identities remained a mystery as one by one they dropped to floor. Were they dead? Murdered? Or were they sleeping?

The colours swirled and merged until all that was left was the dirty cream of swaddling bands that covered the body of a wriggling infant. His face, unlike all of the other images, was crystal clear and she knew in an instant who he was. But before she had a chance to properly study his features the dancers returned. The vision juddered and she caught a glimpse of home, the carved wood, running water and glittering sunlight. The knights and ladies danced in slow disjointed movements now, like puppets on string.

Someone called her name. She saw herself standing sky clad and Merlin stood before her. They disappeared as quickly as they had appeared and she saw the baby once more, this time several months older and in a woman's arms. The dancers wore all red now. Was it dye or was it blood? Battle raged. The baby was a man. He bore a sword and the Pendragon arms. A girl similar in features stood beside him. The courtiers returned, running not dancing. She and Merlin embraced and the baby cried. A knife flashed. Arthur. Not Arthur. She heard her name again, clearer this time. The vision was further away. The images flowed and then shuddered, flowed and then shudder. Then they stopped.

XXX

"How is she?" The sound of Arthur's voice made Merlin jump and he sat bolt upright in his chair beside the bed. He rubbed his eyes and looked to his king.

"Better, just sleeping now." he replied.

"I'm sorry," Arthur said. The comment came out of nowhere. The candles flickered and he glanced at Iellwen. "I know how much you care for her. But it was exile or execution."

"No one need know. She could go back to being a servant," Merlin pleaded. Arthur sighed.

"I would if I could."

"But you can." They regarded each other carefully before Merlin turned back to Iellwen. "You could if you wanted to. You're the king."

Iellwen stirred and Merlin leant forward in his chair. He took her hand as he called her name and she turned to him. He called her name again. Her eyes opened slowly. She moved her lips as if trying to speak but made no noise. She looked worryingly pale and sickly. She said a few words in Elvish. Even if he had known the language, Merlin doubted that he would have understood her. Her voice was hoarse and quiet. She spoke again in Elvish, more coherently this time. Merlin shook his head.

"Iellwen, I don't know what you're saying," he said gently. The priestess regarded him with bewilderment. Gaius stepped through the open doorway. She repeated her words to him.

"She is asking for the queen," the physician said.

Merlin frowned. "I thought you didn't know Elvish."

"I cannot read it, but I speak enough to understand simple phrases." Merlin stood and was about to step past Arthur when the king raised his hand.

"I will fetch her. You stay here," he said. Merlin nodded and returned to his seat. Iellwen didn't speak again until Gwen appeared at the door way. The priestess tried to sit up fully as the king and queen stopped at the end of the bed.

"Please," Gwen said with a small shake of the head, "There is no need."

"There is every need," Iellwen retorted quickly. Her voice was quiet and Merlin had to focus to be able to properly hear her. "I am sorry to have disturbed you at such an hour." Gwen pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders and shrugged slightly.

"Why did you want to see me?"

"What you suspect – it is true," Iellwen said. Gwen studied the elf's face intently with a cross between suspicion and hope playing across her own.

"What did you see?" This time it was the queen's voice that Merlin found difficult to hear. Arthur reached out and touched his wife's arm. She didn't even acknowledge him as she continued to stare at Iellwen.

"I-" The priestess covered her mouth coughed violently. Merlin offered her water but it was quickly declined. He could see blood on her lips. Gaius, who was stood silently in the shadows did not move and so Merlin stood back. "I saw a child brought to birth this spring in Camelot," Iellwen said carefully. Gwen's hand clutched her husband's shirt but she didn't move her gaze. "One to continue the Pendragon blood line."

"I thought – I thought perhaps it was nerves."

Iellwen shook her head, "You felt the first quickening. The child dances inside you." Gwen turned to Arthur with her hand over her mouth. The king couldn't supress his smile as they embraced fiercely. Merlin turned his back on them as he pressed on.

"What else did you see?" he said as he sat back at Iellwen's bedside. She looked to him from the queen. The startling green of her eyes took his breath away.

"I saw murder."

XXX

The banquet hall was filled with what seemed like a hundred courtiers. Vibrant fabrics and bright lights created an explosion of colour that pulsed and swirled as some danced and others mingled. The tables had been cleared of food and pushed outwards against the walls and were now covered in a wide array of drinks ranging from bog-standard ale to a spirit apparently named dragon-fire. The doors had only been thrown open a few hours ago and yet there seemed not to be a sober person present. King Arthur's birth anniversary celebration was always the event of the year in Camelot. Usually it was a welcome distraction from affairs of court. This year, however, was different. This year there was to be a murder.

Gwen and Arthur were in a joyful bubble of their own. They stood at the edge of the celebrations and spoke to each other in hushed, excited voices. Merlin smiled as he watched. They had been struggling through their previous loss, both terrified that it marked the end of the Pendragon line. Now looking at them it was hard to believe that that was less than a year ago. He admired their strength. Merlin felt a presence beside him and he turned to see Gwaine stood there with a tankard of mead in his hand.

"Anything?" Gwaine asked him, not taking his eyes from the crowd. Merlin shook his head and realising that the knight couldn't see him he replied.

"Nothing yet."

"Has she said anything else?"

"No," Merlin said, "All she saw was the knife and the blood." Gwaine huffed discontentedly at his side.

"What good is the Sight if she can't see anything useful?" he muttered in annoyance. He took a swig of mead as he scanned the crowd with untrusting eyes.

"Without her vision we would have nothing in the first place," Merlin retorted defensively. "She can only see what she is shown." The knight grunted his agreement.

As he put his tankard on the table behind them, Ragnelle appeared through the crowd.

"Are you going to evade me all evening?" she said reproachfully.

"I'm not evading you," Gwaine replied. His wife raised an eyebrow.

"Twice I have been cornered by Sir Bedwyr's wife and her insufferable sister and twice you have failed to rescue me from their grip."

"I-"

"No. I am only here to inform you that I no longer require your services as my lord protector," she looked to the young manservant and continued. "Merlin will be my guardian. Isn't that right, Merlin?"

"My lady, I have no doubt that you are perfectly capable of fending off the witless without my help," Merlin answered good-humouredly. With a quick glare at his friend, Gwaine turned and picked up a fresh tankard.

"Are you enjoying the festivities?" Ragnelle asked Merlin as she suppressed at small laugh at her husband's expense.

Merlin nodded. "Of course," he replied. "How is Florence?"

"Noisy," Gwaine said mid-swallow, "demanding, always hungry."

"Like father, like daughter," Ragnelle murmured from behind her glass. Her husband feigned being winded with a sharp gasp.

"We are completely different," he protested.

"Hm, yes, the difference being that she can't help it."

They were so absorbed in their laughter that it took them several seconds to register the bloodcurdling scream that broke through the music and voices. All fell silent. The knights drew their swords. Merlin followed Gwaine's horrified gaze until it met the king. Arthur stood frozen, arms held out to his sides as if balancing himself and his eyes fixed firmly on Gwen as she reluctantly backed away. The blade flashed in the candlelight as it was pressed to Arthur's throat. Merlin didn't recognise the man who held it, but it didn't matter. The warlock glanced around the room, looking for options as Arthur spoke.

"Who are you?"

"I want the key," the man snapped viciously. The panic in his voice struck Merlin as odd. The man's eyes darted about the room frantically. He knew he wasn't getting out of this situation alive.

"What key?" Arthur asked slowly.

"You know what key." The knife was pressed closer to the king's throat. "Don't play games. I know you're playing games with me." The blade shook violently in the man's hand.

"I'm not," the king replied. "I'm not playing any games. Please, tell me what key you want."

"The key to the staff."

Arthur raised his arms in exasperation, "What staff? I don't know what you're talking about."

"Liar!" the man screeched at the top of his lungs. "Give it to me!"

The man suddenly cried out in pain. He dropped his knife and Arthur spun around to face him. He fell to the floor with a groan and as he did he revealed the woman standing behind him, a bloody dagger in her hand. It was Iellwen. She breathed heavily as they watched the man on the ground take his last breaths. His blood spread until it reached the gaps in the stonework. It followed the crevasses and crept outwards creating a web-like pattern on the floor. He twitched briefly and his lungs rattled.

No one spoke.

XXX

Arthur and Iellwen sat in front of the fire. She adjusted the shawl that she wore as they watched the flames dance in the fireplace.

"I owe you my life," Arthur said gently, "Again."

"What is that – the second time?"

Arthur laughed softly. "I think it may be more than that."

Iellwen shrugged. "It is my duty. You owe me nothing."

Arthur studied the elf carefully as he twirled the goblet in his hand.

"You know, the more I learn about your people the more intrigued I become."

"How so?"

"It occurred to me that a friendship, perhaps even an allegiance, between our races would be mutually beneficial," he suggested. Iellwen raised an eyebrow. "You disagree."

"No, I don't disagree," she said with a shake of her head, "I only question whether our people would be as keen." Arthur regarded her with a questioning tilt of the head. "You forget that when your father outlawed the practice of Magic he also ordered the execution of not only myself but my entire race. The threat of genocide is not commonly used as a foundation for friendship. It is a relationship that may take years or even decades to heal."

"Then we will take it one step at a time," Arthur said. "We start with an olive branch."


End file.
